Oh apple cake. Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Let’s not go there.
Courtesy of the Moorabbin Technical School, circa… ah, well, there’s the rub. The date of publication has been lost in the ether of time. Turning all Nancy Drew (or Hamlet, should the Shakespearean references keep on rolling) there are clues to be found in them there advertisements. Portable typewriters for sale. Sorry, make that ‘The Olympia SF De Luxe Portable’ typewriter, the “snazziest” machine which evidently paves the way to a lucrative career as a typist (30/- more than a clerk, don’t you know?). But if typing does not appease your soul, there is a Melbourne book retailer spruiking the “excellent” The Key To Your Career, new edition 1962. It would seem, dear Watson, this book is a whisker less than a sprightly 51 years of age.
Confused literary references aside, here she is: lady apple cake. Oh yes, those contributors could cook.
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a la Home Tested Recipes, a slender recipe book issued by the Moorabbin Technical School Fete Committee.
2 cups SR flour
2 tsp cream of tartar
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
½ cup sugar
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp mixed spice
½ cup butter, melted
3 medium apples (granny smiths worked nicely), grated
1 tbsp sugar
Nutmeg (I grated a whole nutmeg, but ½ tsp of ground would be nearly as good)
Preheat oven to 150oC. Butter and line a spring form cake tin. No seriously, line that thing. This cake gets juicy.
Mix together all of the cake ingredients in the listed order. It will be dry, so use your hands to form a ball-ish fragrant lump of delicious cake. Divide in two in the bowl.
Press half of the dough into the tin. Tumble over the slippery, jaggedy apple shards, sprinkle over the sugar and grate over the nutmeg. Nutmeg is potent. Beware. Apparently too much can kill you (urban myth?).
Press over the remaining dough.
Bake for 45 minutes, ish. It will be golden on top and your kitchen should smell amazing.
Drink with a cup of tea, milky if you wish, but certainly in a mug that you can fit all fingers in. None of that one-finger business you find at cafés.