In Season

I hope you know by now that winter in California is my favorite season.  Not necessarily because of the weather-though I do love the years of rainy winters-but because winter is the height of citrus season.  Give me all the Meyer lemons, Eurekas, limes, blood oranges, Cara Caras, kumquats, Satsumas, and Navels!

Do you have a tree that prolifically produces citrus?  Don't know what to do with the overabundance?  Well, I'm your girl!  I will happily take the overflow off your hands.  What will I do with it?  I'll tell you.  I'll make curd, marmalade, have fresh-squeezed orange juice for breakfast, and bake a cake.  Or two.  Or three. 

A cake recipe that I come back to repeatedly is the yogurt cake.  I first came upon it while reading 'On Rue Tatin' by Susan Hermann Loomis.  It is my favorite kind of recipe.  One or two bowls, mixing with nary a hand mixer or Kitchen Aid in sight, pour batter into a pan, bake.  A yogurt cake is also the kind of cake that tastes better the next day, is totally appropriate to have for breakfast, and gives you the best reason to take tea time in the afternoon. 

Don't believe me?  Grab some of that winter citrus and try it.

Orange Yogurt Cake 

Makes one 9 inch loaf

Adapted from Jo Cooks Lemon Yogurt Cake recipe

For cake batter:

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

2 tsp baking powder 

1/2 tsp salt

1 cup plain yogurt

3/4 cup sugar

3 eggs

2 tsp orange zest

1/2 tsp vanilla extract 

1/2 cup canola oil

For glaze:

1/3 cup orange or tangerine juice

1/3 sugar

Pre-heat oven to 350°.  Line a loaf pan with parchment, leaving a bit of an overhang to easily remove cake from pan.  Grease short ends of pan.  Whisk flour, baking powder, and salt in a mixing bowl.  In a larger bowl, add eggs, sugar, oil, and orange zest.  Whisk until incorporated.  Add extract and yogurt, making sure all ingredients are mixed well.  Add dry ingredients to wet and mix.  Pour batter into loaf pan.  

Bake for 50-60 minutes until a toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.  While cake is baking, make a simple syrup with the 1/3 cup orange or tangerine juice and 1/3 cup sugar.  Heat over medium flame until sugar melts.  Remove from heat and allow to cool. 

When cake is done, allow to cool for at least 10 minutes before removing from pan.  Place cake on a cooling rack over a cookie sheet.  Poke a few holes into the top of the cake, then pour syrup over cake.  Allow syrup to seep into cake. 

Sprinkle with confectioners sugar and serve.  You can make candied peel and garnish with that also.  

Can You Be Obsessed...

...with cake?  Not just being pro-cake.  More than just proclaiming, 'I much prefer cake over pie.'  (That's me)  But...can you be obsessed with a cake?  Can you like a cake so much that you make it once and before it's been completely consumed--not solely by you, thank god--you are already thinking about making it again?  Like NOW.  It's similar to how I felt after I got my first tattoo.  No sooner did I have the first one, not even fully healed, that my mind was swirling with ideas on what the next tattoo would be and where it would go.

If you make this yourself, you'll understand why I couldn't stop thinking about it.  The original recipe  is from Christopher Kimball's 'Milk Street' magazine.  My absolute favorite part is that it's a one bowl recipe--all you need is a bowl and a whisk (and a cake pan, naturally).  No mixer, no fancy gadgets.  The best kind of recipe.  For those of you who are gluten-free...guess what?  It's gluten-free!  The cake, hailing from Galicia, Spain, is known as tarta de Santiago.  Traditionally, it is dusted with powdered sugar using a stencil of the cross of St. James the Great, who is reportedly buried in the region's cathedral.

It's a dense cake.  On the Instagram post, someone commented that it is the perfect marriage of marzipan and meringue.  (It IS!)  It gets better the next day or even the day after that.  A friend drizzled a piece with blackberry honey...and holy crap...it was good.  You can pair it with whipped cream and berries as they do in 'Milk Street.'  It would probably be awesome with vanilla bean ice cream.  But, truthfully, I prefer it in it's simplicity.  Just give me a good cup of coffee to accompany a slice.

The recipe in 'Milk Street' uses 1/4 tsp almond extract and 1/4 tsp vanilla extract and no zest.  After reading the article, I did a little Googling to learn more about the cake and decided I wanted to try adding citrus as it's a more traditional way of baking it.  Either way, you'll love it.


Galician Almond Cake (Tarta de Santiago)
adapted from the recipe on Milk Street's site
makes one 9-inch layer cake

1 cup white sugar
3 large eggs
3 large egg whites
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp almond extract
2 1/2 cups blanched almond flour (not almond meal)
zest of one medium lemon
zest of one medium orange
3 tbsp turbinado sugar
1/3 cup sliced almonds

Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees.  Line a 9-inch cake pan with a circle of parchment and butter the sides.  In a mixing bowl, add the white sugar, eggs, egg whites, almond extract, salt, and citrus zests (roughly 2 tbsp altogether).  Whisk until well-mixed.  Add almond flour and mix until incorporated.

Pour batter into lined cake pan.  Sprinkle top with almonds and turbinado sugar.  Try to alternate, so sugar will caramelize on top of cake and on almonds.  Bake 50-55 minutes, until top browns.  Cake should feel firm when tested with a slight press of finger.  Remove from oven and allow to cool for 10-15 minutes.  Run a knife along inner edge of cake before turning out onto plate.  Then invert on second plate.

The Right Place, at the Right Time

Earlier this month, my friend, Tim, flew out to Los Angeles from Philadelphia for a couple of days to visit.  We had a great visit.  Lots of fun, lots of driving around, and lots of food.  Strangely enough...I didn't cook for us once.  If his trip had been a day or so longer, I probably would have.  But for now, it will have to wait until his next trip here.  And there will be one!

As I said, there was a lot of food involved.  Nothing fancy, nothing expensive...but fun and good.  In fact, I think there will be a blog post about our adventures in Los Angeles coming up, so I'm not going to say too much here.  For a tease though...I will say that we had an impromptu visit to a little of the San Gabriel Valley...which is how I ended up making Ricotta and Fava Bean Manicotti.

 Finding yourself in the right place at the right time leads to good things...and sometimes good food.  We were driving down Valley Blvd in San Gabriel when I realized that I missed the turn I wanted to take, so I was going to drive a little further and turn around.   It was only a few blocks up when I see to my left Claro's Italian Market.   This required an immediate stop.   I should have a bumper sticker that reads, 'Will brake for Italian markets.'  Because I will...and we did.  Even though I've got an Italian market right down the street from me...another over in Glendale, and unlimited online sources for Italian goodies, I will always stop at a new market.  Always.

I didn't buy too much.  A nice hunk of ricotta salata, taralli (the kind I haven't had in years!), and pasta.  But not any pasta...but penne.  GIANT penne.  Penne disguising itself as manicotti-size shells.  I had to have them.  And so inexpensive.  Just over a pound for a less than $2.00.  And you know how much I love finding a bargain.

I wasn't quite sure what I was going to do with my Giant Penne at first.  It took a day or so before I thought about the Fava Bean Smash I had made the week earlier, my thoughts also going to the ricotta  that was sitting in the fridge...and there you have it.  I figured the smashed beans and ricotta could easily be piped with a pastry bag into those shells.  I had to try.

A note on the sauce:  I made a no-fuss, quick tomato sauce for this.  Essentially sauteing a couple large handfuls of grape tomatoes with some onion and garlic, until the tomatoes pop.  Do what feels right for you.  Whether you use fresh tomatoes or have a can of San Marzano tomatoes in the pantry, keep it fresh and easy.

Fava and Ricotta Manicotti
Makes 6

1/2 cup Fava beans, shelled and blanched
1 cup ricotta cheese
6 Manicotti shells
1/2 tsp lemon zest
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 garlic clove, minced
1/4 med onion, sliced thin
2 cups cherry or grape tomatoes, halved
1 tablespoon fresh basil, slivered
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/4 cup Parmesan cheese, grated
1/4 cup Mozzarella, shredded
salt, to taste

Set a large saucepan of water to boil for the pasta.  Cook the shells a couple of minutes shy of al dente as they'll finish cooking in the oven.  Drain immediately and cover.

Pre-heat the oven to 350 degrees.  In a large skillet, heat 1 tablespoon of olive oil over medium heat.  Add the onions and garlic, and saute until the onions begin to turn clear.  Add the tomatoes and saute, letting the tomatoes soften and pop.  I am not opposed to you adding a little wine here.  It won't hurt.  Turn the heat to low and let the tomatoes reduce, stirring occasionally.  Cook until it's to your liking, adding the basil near the end.  

After you've blanched the Fava beans, smash with the back of a fork until they form a paste, adding a few drops of olive oil as needed to hasten the process.   In a separate bowl, add the ricotta, black pepper, a pinch of salt, and lemon zest.  Mix to combine, then add the Fava bean smash and stir to incorporate all the ingredients.

Put the ricotta and Fava mix into a pastry bag outfitted with a large plain tip.  You could also use a large Ziploc bag with the corner cut off.  I found the easiest way to fill the shells is to fill each shell half-way, then flip the shell and fill from the other end.  That way, you're not trying to squeeze the filling all the way to the other end.  In a small casserole dish (about 1 1/2 quart size), spoon a layer of your sauce on the bottom, then layer the filled pasta shells.  Sprinkle a little of the Parmesan and Mozzarella, then more sauce, and the next layer of Manicotti shells, sauce, and cheese.  Cover with foil and bake for 20 minutes.  Remove the foil, then bake for an additional 5 minutes.  Let the dish rest for 5 minutes before serving.  

The Summer Kitchen

My two favourite weather terms I've learned living in Southern California are 'May Gray' and 'June Gloom.'  These are conditions where the marine layer (similar to fog) is so thick, you awaken in the morning to grey skies and a cool nip in the air.  Some days the marine layer breaks up in the late morning and the sun will finally poke its rays out, and sometimes you won't see the sun until mid-to-late afternoon.  It's been so thick that we've had days where the gray and gloom last all day long.  So far in this month of May, there has been little gray.  In fact, we're about to have a few days of 90 degree plus weather.  My phone told me today that it was 99 degrees at 4pm. Too early, too much, too soon.

I'm pretty sure I've written about it before...when the temps start creeping towards triple digits, I hate to cook.   Yes, I will admit that I have moments of insanity when I turn on the oven to a blazing 450 degrees in crazy hot Summer weather because the craving for pizza won't abate or I can't be without cake for dessert.

But if the weather is consistently hot, this is where I turn to the Summer Kitchen.  

In the Summer Kitchen, I happily subsist on antipasti platters--sometimes for lunch, sometimes for dinner, sometimes both in the same day.  The fridge will be stocked with olives, cheese, salami, and roasted red pepper strips (made when the weather was friendlier).  Of course, there are always salads made with no hard and fast rules about what to add.  Fruits, vegetables, cold pasta, rice, and no frou frou dressings.  A drizzle of good olive oil and a splash of vinegar or lemon juice will do.

Then there are the minimal cooking options:  no sauteing, no sweating onions.  No more energy used than what it takes to boil a pot of water, okay...maybe two.  One pot to blanch some Fava beans and the other to cook a handful of cous cous.  You can eat this as a side dish, or if you top a salad with it, you'll have a light, summer meal.

Cous Cous with Fava Bean Smash
Serves 2

1 cup shelled Fava beans
1 large tomato, chopped
1/4 cup feta cheese, crumbled
1/4 cup olives
1 tsp. lemon zest
1 cup cous cous, prepared
1 tablespoon olive oil
salt and pepper, to taste

Prepare the cous cous and set aside.  If you have already prepared fava beans (I've heard that Trader Joe's carries them cooked and vacuum packed), you don't have to  worry about shelling them.  Some people are turned off by having to do the work, but it's really not too bad and not terribly time-consuming.  If you have fresh beans still in the pod, remove the beans from the pods.  Bring a small pot of water to a boil and add the beans.  Blanche beans for about 4-5 minutes.  Prepare a bowl of ice water and after blanching the beans, spoon them into the ice water.  To shell the blanched beans, you can either cut a small slit along the edge or pinch an edge to break open the shell and squeeze out the bean.  

Place the shelled beans in a small bowl and with the back of a fork, smash the beans to a paste.  Add the olive oil a little at a time to make the paste a little smoother.  Add salt and pepper, as necessary.  

Divide the cous cous between two plates or bowls, adding the tomato and olives.  Use whatever olives you like, I had dry oil-cured black and cracked Greek green olives on hand.  Spoon the Fava smash atop the cous cous.  Sprinkle with feta and lemon zest (or add the lemon zest to the Fava bean smash).  Salt and pepper to taste.  

As I mentioned before, if you make a big salad, this is amazing mixed in.  I love the slight warmth of the cous cous with the cold, crisp salad leaves.

An Unnatural Obsession

Brussels sprouts.  Why do some people hate them so?  They've been around for centuries, as far back as the 13th century!  Miniature cabbages that grow on a stalk.  They're small.  They're cute!  How can someone not like Brussels sprouts? Well, the first time I tried them (and it wasn't that long ago), I didn't like them either.   I thought they were bitter and mushy and just weren't that high up in my list of foods I couldn't live without.  Thinking back on it, I suppose boiling the crap out of them wasn't the best way to cook them.

Come to find out, good preparation is key.  'Duh', you're thinking.  So I gave them another try.  On the second go-round, I roasted them in the oven with onions and carrots.  That was a definite improvement.  They still had a little bite, sweetened by the carrots and onions.  They were moving further up on the list.  You know that phrase, 'The third time's a charm?'  It certainly was for me.  Brussels sprouts braised with a little chicken stock and red wine made those little heads of cabbage shoot damn close to the top of the 'Foods I Can't Live Without' list.  

Then it happened.  Really happened.  I now find myself craving Brussels Sprouts, daydreaming about them, I may even go so far as to say I'm obsessed with them.   I've found a dish where I think about making it on consecutive days and happily eating it over and over.  It's not complicated, but this dish does need a little something that you can prepare ahead of time.  There is the simplest red pepper oil from Heidi Swanson's [101 Cookbooks] 'Super Natural Every Day' that will make you wonder how you ever lived without it.  In this Brussels Sprouts and pasta dish, you'll be happy you didn't skip it.  And if you've never read her blog or her books, I highly recommend both.

You've got the comfort factor of a bowl of pasta, grated heaps of sauteed Brussels Sprouts, a little kick from lemon, and a little heat from the oil.  This is also one of the easiest meals you can throw together, which is kind of what I did to begin with.  It's those 'happy accidents' that turn out to be the best, don't you think?

Penne and Brussels Sprouts
Serves 2

2 cups cooked penne pasta
6 Brussels sprouts, washed, any less than prime outer leaves removed
2 Tbsp butter
3 Tbsp bread crumbs
1/2 teaspoon lemon zest, preferably Meyer lemon
2 Tbsp red pepper oil (recipe follows)
1/4 cup Parmesan, grated or shaved
salt and pepper, to taste


Cook your pasta and set aside.  Reserve about 1/4 cup of the pasta water.  Grate the Brussels sprouts using the large holes of a box grater.  You will have what looks like a lot of Brussels sprouts.  That's okay because they'll cook down a bit.  If you still have larger pieces because you're trying to save your fingertips from the box grater, that's okay too.

Melt the butter in a large skillet over medium heat.  Add the Brussels sprouts and stir frequently while the vegetables cook down.  You still want them fairly bright in colour, so only saute about 2 minutes.  Add the bread crumbs and mix well.  Add the lemon zest and one tablespoon of the red pepper oil.  

Add the pasta and combine well.  You can add a couple of tablespoons of the pasta water to make a little sauce with the oil and butter.  Drizzle the second tablespoon over everything and add the Parmesan.  Salt and pepper to taste.  


     Heidi Swanson's Red Pepper Oil
     Makes 1/2 cup

     1/2 cup olive oil
     1 1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes

     In a small saucepan, heat the olive oil until quite warm.  Add the red pepper  
     flakes and stir in.  Remove from heat and allow the oil to cool.  Store in a 
    small  bottle or jar.  

If you were on the fence about Brussels Sprouts before this, I'm hoping your eyes will widen in wonder and delight after the first mouthful.

A Lemon in Winter

Winter in Los Angeles does not usually bring to mind freezing temperatures like we had a week or so ago (and still having, though a tad warmer).  Winter does bring to mind a market flowing with citrus...whether little satsumas, bright, big Navel oranges, blushing grapefruits, or sunny lemons.  Even better than your typical lemon is the Meyer lemon.  A little rounder than a true lemon, a Meyer is thought to be a hybrid between a lemon and orange.  The juice is sweeter and the skin smoother and much thinner.

I stopped at the grocer's the other night and right past the bananas, there they were, quietly calling out to me.  The store had them packaged in groups of four, but in looking through the stack, I found a package of two.  Perfect.

I've been slowly returning to my usual self in the kitchen.  Doing more cooking, having more for dinner than a sandwich, and thinking about baking, which I hadn't done since the holidays.  Today was a day off from work and by late this morning, I had those Meyers zested and juiced, though I was still debating what to do with them.  I made fresh ricotta this morning and thought about a Meyer lemon and ricotta cake, or maybe Meyer lemon cupcakes with a simple glaze...but truthfully...both options were more work than I wanted to do.  So I fell back on my tried and true, easy to make, and quick to bake...scones.

They are just what I wanted.  Not too sweet with the delicate taste of Meyer lemons.  Hot out of the oven with a dab of butter...it was perfection.

Meyer Lemon Scones
Makes about a dozen 2-inch scones

2 cups flour
1 tbsp baking powder
3 tbsp sugar
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
6 tbsp butter, cut in pieces
4 tbsp Meyer lemon juice
2 teaspoons Meyer lemon zest
2 tbsp milk or water
Sugar for sprinkling (optional)

Pre-heat oven to 400 degrees and line a baking sheet with parchment paper.  In a bowl, sift flour and baking powder.  Add remaining ingredients and with a pastry cutter or fork, mix well.  Turn dough out onto a floured board, rolling out until dough is about half an inch thick and cut scones with a biscuit or cookie cutter.  Alternately, you can make 2-inch rounds with your hands.  The dough will be soft and fairly sticky, so dust your hands with a decent amount of flour.  

If you like, brush the scones with milk and sprinkle with sugar before baking.  I left my plain.

Bake for 16-20 minutes, depending on size.  Remove from oven and allow to cool on cooling rack.  

Holding onto Summer

You know as well as I do that when Labor Day hits on the first Monday in September, there's a shift in the season.  Despite the fact that the first day of Autumn isn't until September 22, you invariably start packing up the vestiges of Summer.  If you have kids, they go back to school and you begin to pack up the fun.    The days feel less carefree and dusk begins to arrive a few minutes earlier every evening.

But look outside...the weather isn't giving up it's heat, humidity, or beating sun just yet. September can be notoriously hot.  So, while part of you may be thinking about apple pies, hot chocolate on a chilly fall evening, or a whiskey to warm you up on a rainy Saturday afternoon, there's another part of you that doesn't want to let go of the bright, cool tastes of Summer.

The past three weeks of 90+ degree weather here in Los Angeles has made me want to put as little effort as possible into cooking.  I've baked way less than I have in months, and I am happily still in an eating rut of sandwiches where the closest thing to cooked is toasted bread and salads multiple times a day is okay by me.  The fruit bowl on the dining table has been overflowing this Summer:  plums, peaches, nectarines, berries, and melons have abounded.  I've been perfectly content standing over the kitchen sink, biting into a ripe peach, trying to keep the juices away from my shirt.  I'll think about making something more substantial, and find myself grabbing a plum and calling it a meal.

I was able to pick up cantaloupe a few days ago for practically pennies.  I think they were three for a dollar.  Since I can't resist an excellent price, I bought them.  I can easily eat half a melon sprinkled with a little sea salt and be a happy camper, but with three melons in the fridge, I knew I'd have to do something else with them.  After making July's cucumber soup, sometime over the past month I came across a recipe on Pinterest for a chilled cantaloupe soup.

Obviously, it took a few days to get the motivation up to make it.  I cut up the cantaloupe a couple of days ago with every intention of making it within hours...but as I mentioned before...this heat.  It makes me lazy.  It makes me wish I could just lounge by the pool drinking sangria.  (I don't have a pool, but I did have sangria.)

Well...I finally made it.  It was worth the wait.

Cantaloupe Soup
(Adapted from a recipe on Food52.com)
Makes 4-5 cups

2 medium cantaloupe melons, cut up (about 6 cups)
1/4 cup almond milk
Juice of one lemon
Juice of one orange
Juice of one lime
1/4 teaspoon orange zest
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons fresh basil, sliced
2 tablespoon jalapeno 
1/4 cup sour cream
1/4 cup crumbled feta cheese

In a blender, add half the cantaloupe and all ingredients except the sour cream and feta.  Blend until pureed and continually add the remaining cantaloupe.  Blend until  no chunks remain.  In a small bowl, mix feta and sour cream  until the consistency of cake frosting. 

Pour soup into bowls and top with a dollop of the feta cream.  You can also serve it as an appetizer in shot glasses (or any small glass).  

A Birthday Without A Cake...

On the Reading List at the moment is 'Talking with My Mouth Full:  Crab Cakes, Bundt Cakes, and Other Kitchen Stories,' by NPR Food Commentator Bonny Wolf.  I didn't know who she was when I checked it out from the library,  but I'm enjoying the book immensely.  Bonny writes in a very easy-going way.  The book is full of anecdotes from her life and is filled with lots of great recipes.  More importantly, they are recipes she's culled from friends and family over the years, so they're unfussy and fall into the 'tried and true' category.  I ordered a copy of the book, so I'll have the recipes close at hand whenever I need them.

What caught my attention the other day was an essay entitled, "Let Them Eat Cake," where she talked about the birthday cakes her friends have made for the their children, year after year, from the times they were little to the not-so-little age of their early adult years.  She writes about the fancy cake she had on her fifth birthday, the cake her mom made that had a doll coming out from the top and the cake looked like a tiered skirt of frilly ruffles.  I remember having one like that myself, probably from my fourth or fifth birthday, and somewhere there's a photo of me in the kitchen, standing next to the table, and looking happily at that cake.

Over the past couple of years, I've taken it into my own hands to have a cake on my birthday.    In 2010, I made lavender cupcakes with a lilac-tinted lemon buttercream, each topped with a single blueberry.  Yes, they look like breasts.  Don't ask me what I was thinking, but I wanted embellishment.  Any kind of psychological insight aside, they were delicious.  Last year, I opted for cupcakes again, this time strawberry with a pink-tinted vanilla buttercream.  They were frilly and girly and I ate too many of them.  May Day arrived this year and I ended up with not one, but two birthday cakes.  My co-workers surprised me with a cake at work.  Red Velvet with melted chocolate artfully strewn across the expanse of bakery buttercream.  Thick white ruffles of icing lining the perimeter.  Remember the bakery cakes from when you were little, the cakes with huge buttercream rosettes?  I was the one gathering more than just those that came with my piece.  That was me again on Monday (since I was off yesterday), with loads of buttercream heaped on my plate.  The sugar rush and crash that day was palpable.

Despite the surprise birthday cake, I still had plans for my own-baked version.  With a load of lemons from a co-workers tree, I made lemon curd.  And because I have a thing for lavender in baked goods, I once again opted for a lavender cake.  So 2012 became the year of the Lavender Cake with Lemon Curd Filling.  A single layer, sliced in two with a thick layer of curd, and lightly dusted with confectioners' sugar.  For the past couple of days, I've had the privilege of having cake multiple times in one day.  (If this doesn't get me back to the gym, I don't know what will!)  The lavender cake is perfect with coffee in the morning and the red velvet makes a great mid-afternoon forkful treat.

As Bonny Wolf so truthfully writes at the end of the essay, 'A birthday without a cake is like a wedding without a bride.'  Wise words...so remember, friends don't let friends have a birthday go by without cake.

Lavender Cake with Lemon Curd Filling
Makes one 8-inch layer cake
(Adapted from a recipe on Everything Lavender.com)

For cake:

3/4 cup butter, room temperature
3/4 cup sugar
3 eggs
1 1/2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 tablespoon culinary lavender
4 tablespoons half and half


Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees.  Line a cake pan with parchment or grease and flour the pan.  In a mixing bowl, cream the butter and sugar until fluffy.  Add eggs one at a time and mix until incorporated.  Add remaining ingredients and mix until combined.  Pour batter into cake pan and bake for 30-35 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.  Let cool in pan for 10 minutes before tranferring to wire rack. Let cake cool completely before slicing.  

Spread lemon curd in a thick layer on bottom portion of cake.  Carefully place top layer back on and dust with confectioners' sugar.  


For lemon curd:
Makes about 1 1/2-2 cups
(From FineCooking.com--the easiest recipe I've come across for lemon curd)

6 tablespoons butter, room temperature
1 cup sugar
2 large eggs
2 large egg yolks
2/3 cup fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon lemon zest

Cream butter and sugar.  Add eggs one at a time and mix well.  Add egg yolks.  Add lemon juice and mix well.  It will look curdled because of the lemon juice, but it's okay.  Heat mixture over low heat in a saucepan until it looks smooth.  Increase heat to medium, cook until mixture thickens, stirring constantly (about 15 minutes).  Do not let mixture boil.  Mixture should easily coat a wooden spoon and leave a clean path when you run your finger through it.  

Remove from heat and mix in lemon zest.  Transfer curd to a bowl and cover with plastic wrap, pressing plastic on top of curd so a skin doesn't form.  Chill in refrigerator.  Curd will thicken.  You can make this the day before.  Covered tightly, it will last for about a week.  

From the co-workers

Lavender Cake with Lemon Curd Filling

Birthday 2010:  Lavender Cupcakes with Lemon Buttercream

Birthday 2011:  Strawberry Cupcakes with Vanilla Buttercream