7,000 years of soggy bottoms
Donuts . . . ’ Homer simpson once remarked. ‘Is there anything they can’t do?’ As always, his insight was profound. In culinary terms, a cake may be no more than a batter of flour , sugar, fat and eggs. But, as Alysa Levene points out in her history of cake, it is hard to overstate the cultural and historical significance of the delicious morsels.
From the cakes that King Alfred famously burned in 878 while brooding on his defeat by the marauding Vikings, to the madeleine that inspired the narrator’s memories in P roust’s novel, In search of Lost time, and the pink - iced Magnolia Bakery cupcakes enjoyed by Carrie Bradshaw in sex And the City, cakes have always been far more than just a sugary snack.
they have a magical ability to represent two quite contradictory ideals: on the one hand, comfort and domesticity; on the other, glamour and sophistication.
But there’s a not-so-sweet side as well. Cakes bring out the competitive streak in school-gate mums and draw tears and tantrums from contestants on the Great British Bake off.
Beneath the cream cheese frosting of red velvet cupcakes, or the squidgy mallow dome of a t unnock’s teacake, Levene discovers a wealth of information about the state of the economy , not to mention ‘ societal constructions of women’s gender’.
As LonG ago as 5,000 BC, the Egyptians enjoyed cakes sweetened with honey, while the Ancient Greeks and Romans were keen cake-fanciers. the Greeks began the custom of putting candles on cakes, and the spartans celebrated their women ’s festivals with cakes baked in the shape of breasts.
Among the ashes of P ompeii and Herculaneum, archaeologists have found baking tins and even carbonised cakes.
the uK boasts a tradition of celebration cakes dating back to Medieval times. Cornish saffron cakes, the sinister scottish black bun and the fruit cakes with which we still celebrate Christmas, weddings and christen - ings are history in edible form: survivors from the days of the Crusaders, who brought back spices such as ginger, cin - namon and cloves.
such hefty bakes were resilient enough to withstand erratic Medieval cooking conditions, but the invention of a temperature - controlled oven in the 18th century began a revolution in home baking.
In the 20th century , it became big business, with brands such as Betty Crocker and Pillsbury competing to persuade housewives to experiment with ever more exotic ingredients. one surreal-sounding thirties recipe for a spiced layer cake involved a ‘mystery ingredient ’ — a can of Campbell’s con - densed tomato soup. Childhood and cake are inseparable: in the u. s., Catherine Beecher (whose sister Harriet wrote the bestselling book uncle tom’s Cabin) wrote a cookbook containing a ‘Good Child’s Cake’. Levene does not say if there was a bad child’s version, but children ’s literature is full of culinary disasters, from the liniment that Anne of Green Gables adds to her cake by mistake for vanilla essence, to Just William’s bruising mishaps with confectionery.
Alongside the sweet wholesome- ness of childhood treats, Levene’s book tells a darker tale of adult luxury and excess.
the notorious libertine the Marquis de sade was partial to chocolate cake (perhaps because chocolate was believed to be an aphrodisiac), and the original celebrity chef, Antonin Careme, whose patrons included napoleon and King George IV , specialised in dare-devil culinary feats, such as plunging his hand into a pan of boiling syrup to make spun sugar. these days, he’d be a television star.
Levene is an academic historian, and a sprinkling of professional jargon occasionally brings a touch of the dreaded soggy bottom to her literary bake.
But a wealth of intricate detail makes this a fascinating account of our millennia-old obsession with all things sweet and crumbly.
1 ton
The weight of the world’s largest cupcake