There are many fine things the British have given the world. Shakespeare. The steam engine. Paddington Bear. And the Lemon Drizzle. It is a cake of quiet confidence and broad appeal.
Wonderfully unfussy it requires no elaborate layers, no architectural buttercream, no edible glitter. It arrives modestly and without fanfare: a cake for life’s ordinary moments. And yet beneath its sensible exterior, it is deeply comforting and quietly nostalgic. It is the culinary equivalent of a lovely cotton dress or a crisp white shirt. Eternally stylish, endlessly versatile.
Which is why it shows up everywhere: village fêtes, church halls, garden parties, picnics, school fundraisers, cafés with mismatched chairs, or a friend’s kitchen as the rain is hammering against the window.
Perhaps the weather has something to do with its popularity. Britain is not a nation overwhelmed by sunshine. Against a backdrop of cloud, drizzle, mist, and showers, the Lemon Drizzle offers up a small act of citrus defiance. It is sunshine in loaf form. A cheerful yellow interruption to a grey afternoon. And, unsurprisingly, it is the perfect accompaniment to a good strong cup of tea.
And unlike many fashionable desserts, the Lemon Drizzle ages with remarkable dignity. It is excellent on the day it is baked, arguably better the next day, and remains reassuringly good several days later. The secret, of course, is its iconic drizzle: that glorious mixture of lemon juice and sugar that seeps into the sponge while it is still warm, making it impossibly moist and tangy, offering up hidden layers of depth while preserving it beautifully, no refrigeration required.
You can, of course, play around with the recipe. Add poppy seeds. Use olive oil. Throw in some lavender (no, don’t do that). But I’m not entirely sure why you’d bother. The beauty of Lemon Drizzle Cake lies in its calm, poised, slightly sticky perfection.
Indeed, I think it is a wonderful aspiration to become the sort of person who casually bakes a Lemon Drizzle on a Tuesday afternoon and places it on the kitchen table, or drops it off with a friend, sending a small ripple of sunshine-y happiness out into a frazzled world.
Lemon Drizzle
cake
- butter, 2 sticks (200g) room temperature
- sugar, 1 cup (200g)
- lemons, zest from 2
- eggs, 4 room temperature
- flour, 1-1/4 cups (200g)
- baking powder, 1-1/2 tsps
- salt, 1/4 tsp
- creme fraiche, 3/4 cup (150g)
syrup
- lemons, juice of 2
- sugar, 1/4 cup (50g)
icing
- icing sugar, 1 cup (100g)
- lemon juice, 3 Tbl
- Pre-heat oven to 350˚F
- Line an 8×4 baking pan with parchment paper.
- Sift together flour, baking powder and salt. Set aside.
- Cream butter, sugar, and lemon zest until light and fluffy.
- Add eggs, one at a time, mixing thoroughly after each addition, but being careful not to over mix. It may look curdled, don’t panic, it will come together beautifully once the flour is added.
- Add half of the flour and beat just until fully incorporated.
- Add the crème fraîche and beat briefly.
- Add the remaining flour, again, beating just until fully incorporated.
- Scrape mixture into the prepared pan and bake for about one hour. I usually check the cake after about 40 minutes and drape lightly with a piece of foil if it’s already a lovely golden brown.
- While the cake is baking, gently warm the lemon juice and sugar until the sugar has dissolved. When the cake comes out of the oven, pour the syrup gently over the cake, giving some syrup time to soak in before adding more.
- Let the cake cool in the pan for an hour or so before removing and allowing to cool completely.
- Sieve the icing sugar into a bowl and stir in the 3 tablespoons of lemon juice to form a thick but spreadable icing. Once the cake is fully cool, gently pour the icing over the cake.