Wednesday, 14 November 2012

Sluttishly Sweet: Giant Boozy Jaffa Cake

It's a miniature orange. Don't panic. This is a giant jaffa cake, not a mutant. 

What's better than a jaffa cake? NOTHING, I hear you cry! Well, you are wrong.

I'll tell you what's better than a jaffa cake. A giant jaffa cake. And what's better than a giant jaffa cake?

Domestic Sluts, let me introduce you to the GIANT, BOOZY jaffa cake.

It hadn't really ever occurred to me to try making my own jaffa cakes. I always presumed they'd be difficult to make. I mean, they taste like magic and wishes and hopes and dreams and all that. But wait a minute. It's a sponge cake, innit? With a bit of orange jelly plonked on top. Smothered in dark chocolate. Ah. So, three ingredients, then. Not difficult at all.

Obviously, I wanted to make a giant jaffa cake. Because giant is good. And then I thought, why not add some Cointreau to the jelly? I couldn't think of a reason why not. There's no argument worth listening to against adding Cointreau to the jelly.

Presuming you're a human being and in possession of most of your faculties, you'll be wanting to make a giant boozy jaffa cake of your own RIGHT NOW. It's your lucky day...

Giant Boozy Jaffa Cake (serves 8 normal-sized people, or one giant)

You'll need: 
  • 135g orange-flavoured packet jelly (I used a normal packet of jelly cubes)
  • 1 tbsp marmalade
  • 1 tbsp Cointreau 
  • 110ml boiling water (if you're of a non-boozy persuasion, use 125ml water and ditch the Cointreau)
  • 55g unsalted butter, plus a little extra for greasing your tins (not a euphemism) 
  • 55g self-raising flour
  • 55g caster sugar
  • 1 large egg
  • Teeny-weeny pinch of salt
  • A splash of vanilla extract
  • 150g good quality dark chocolate
Optional
  • Magic
  • Wishes
  • Hopes
  • Dreams
  • All that

From this...

Make It! 
  1. Make your jelly by dissolving the cubes in the boiling water, then stirring in the marmalade. Stir well until all the gelatine has melted. You can microwave it - carefully - if you're finding it's still lumpy (we're using much less liquid than the packet suggests, as we want a thick, flavoursome jelly). Add the Cointreau and stir well.
  2. In a shallow container, about two inches (5cm) smaller in diameter than your cake tin, pour your jelly so that it's about a centimetre high. I used a round biscuit tin lid, which worked beautifully. Pop it into the fridge to set.
  3. Once it's set, preheat your oven to 190°C/Gas Mark 5. Grease a 7in (18cm) cake tin. If it's a cake tin of the non-non-stick variety, line the base with parchment. Then grease the parchment. We must remain vigilant in the fight against unexpected cake-sticking. 
  4. Beat together the sugar and the butter until soft. Then beat (this is a very violent recipe) the egg and add it gradually to the butter and sugar, energetically mixing as you go. Stir in the vanilla extract.
  5. After sifting the flour and salt, fold both into the mix until it's reached 'dropping consistency'. No, not that kind of dropping. Ew. The batter should 'drop' off the spoon in an elegant and streamlined fashion. Add a splash of milk if it doesn't.
  6. Pour the mixture into your tin and bake in the centre of the oven for 15-20 minutes. When it's done, it should be golden brown, springy to the touch, and a skewer should come out clean when poked into the centre of the cake. 
  7. Let the cake cool in its tin on a wire rack. Then pop it out of the tin, and let it cool down some more. It's angry after all that beating. Calm down, cake-boy.
  8. Wrestle your jelly out of its container - a butter knife around the edge should loosen it - and place on top of the sponge. Wobble wobble.
  9. Melt your chocolate without messing about with a bain marie. Break it into small chunks into a pyrex jug or similarly-microwaveable bowl, then microwave for 40 seconds at a time, stirring after each blast of potentially harmful radiation. As it reaches almost-completely-melting point, don't you dare take your eye off it. Stir once more, then pour over your cake. Smooth the top with the back of a spoon. As it begins to set, use the implement of your choice to draw fancy lines on the chocolate, just like a shop-bought jaffa cake. 
  10. Leave it alone until the chocolate has solidified. Then EAT IT. EAT IT ALL. It's a giant boozy jaffa cake!
... to this. Quite rapidly. Blame my resident giant.  

10 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. And I can't wait to make a boozy, potentially radioactive, mutant Jaffa Cake of my own.

      Delete
  2. I am making this! It must be so!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Brilliant! I made an ode to the jaffa cake a while ago too: http://goo.gl/OmwYd

    ReplyDelete
  4. Looks amazing and instantly reminded me of one of my all time favourite websites... http://www.pimpthatsnack.com/

    ReplyDelete
  5. I don't even like Jaffa Cakes (I don't like my chocolate orangey), but I am putting you in charge of pimping all of my snacks. I look forward to your giant Tunnock's caramel experiment.

    ReplyDelete
  6. I'm with Sara on this... Brilliant! My son wants me to make a Giant Jaffa Cake NOW! (tho I suppose I'll have to leave out the boozy bit...)
    Thank you for this - it is a wonderful recipe. Probably the best recipe ever in the whole world!

    ReplyDelete
  7. Next up, a giant After Eight?

    ReplyDelete
  8. Made two of these for a party. Went down a storm

    ReplyDelete

Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.