Sponge Cake

If you've read about us, you know that Grandma came from England and that young me was a fan of the recipes she brought in her head (i.e. Christmas Pudding, Welsh Rarebit, etc.). 

It should come as no surprise then that I still love all things British, including the Great British Baking Show. If you've never heard of it, go watch an episode, and you'll understand my feelings when I read through this recipe for Sponge Cake. I felt as if I were a contestant in that show, staring down at a technical challenge. The ingredients were there, the vaguest of instructions, and the sort of hint Paul Hollywood might have given the contestants: "Put in a cold oven." 

However, no baking time was mentioned. No pan size. No suggestion of how this cake should be served. (Frosted? With fruit and cream? No idea.) All I had was Grandma's assurance that it was "good." 

There was no gingham cloth to pull aside, just me and my kitchen. But I knew a thing or two about baking, and so I began. 

How to make Sponge Cake

First, I separated the eggs.

After setting the egg whites aside, I grabbed a hand mixer and beat the yolks until they were fully combined and fluffy. Then I beat in the water and vanilla. 

So far, things were simple. The next step was to beat in the dry ingredients, and it seemed like Grandma included the sugar in that category because there was no mention of it anywhere else. 

However, I'd made other cakes that required egg whites to be beaten separately and folded into the rest of the batter, and many of them divided the sugar between the two mixtures. So that's what I did. I sifted one cup of the sugar, the flour, baking powder, and the salt into the beaten egg yolks. The rest of the sugar was set aside for later.   

I beat the mixture until smooth. 

I then turned to the set-aside ingredients. To the egg whites, I added the cream of tartar and set to work on them with the whip attachment of my stick blender.  (Not an affiliate link. I just love this thing.)

I beat the egg whites until they reached soft peaks. I then added the remaining half cup of sugar, a little at a time. Every once in a while, I stopped the whip and pulled it out to check. When the whites were glossy, with stiff and straight peaks, I knew they were done. I even turned the bowl upside down over my head, as some of the bakers on the GBBS like to do to check their whites. They didn't budge.   

I'd run out of instructions on the recipe card by now, but I knew to gently fold the whites into the egg yolk batter. I did a third of the whites at time, gently mixing and folding until no streaks of white remained. It seemed a good sign that the batter was very fluffy.  

The next question was--how big of a pan to use? I relied on my memory of Grandma's cakes to answer it. She often used a tube pan, but more often, her cakes were served in a 9 x 13-inch baking pan. Either one would have worked, I believe, but I went with the 9 x 13. I greased it and spread the batter in. 

The next step was the one I was most nervous about. Because of the Paul Hollywood-like hint on the back of the recipe card, I hadn't preheated the oven. I put the pan into a cold oven, set it to 350 degrees, and pressed start. I might have crossed my fingers, too. 

I had no idea how long to bake the thing, so I set a timer for 30 minutes. The cake was still pale when the timer went off, so I let it bake for 5 more minutes. When the timer went off again, it looked like this.  

The top was a beautiful golden brown. It sprang back when I pressed it. I even stuck in a skewer for good measure, and that came out clean, although I doubt that's a good test for a cake like this. 

The last question: what to do with it? My answer: one can never go wrong with berries and cream. 

The Verdict

Words like spongy, airy, and light come to mind to describe this cake. Its texture reminded me of angel food cake, but the taste was richer and more flavorful, possibly because of the inclusion of the egg yolks. As for the toppings, I chose well. Sweet berries and rich cream were delicious complements to the springy base, but I can also imagine it topped with lemon curd or fresh peaches and cream. In other words, this cake is meant for summer. 

Next time you're tempted to buy a ready-made cake at the grocery store to accompany your in-season fruit, just don't. This one is a cinch to make, and it tastes much better. You might try baking it in round pans and sandwiching the berries or the peaches and cream between pillowy layers. What an impressive sight that will be. And delicious too. I'm salivating as I type. 

If you're ready, here's the recipe, tested and tweaked. Take my word for it: you'll enjoy it, and you won't have to guess on a thing.