Let the Baking Begin!

Leanne's Sponge Attempt 1:

Choosing a recipe proved to be more of a gamble than an educated process. Some recipes require that you separate the eggs, others don't. Some require custard powder, others don't. Some have a little butter, others have a little boiling water. Being the beginner I am, I went straight for the recipe in the Nursing Mothers' Association of Australia Recipes For Busy Mothers book. It's a staple in my collection and always a good starting point. Add that to the fact that I am actually a nursing mother, and it seemed entirely appropriate. 

I gathered the ingredients and weighed everything out accurately. I armed myself with the electric beaters I won in a tennis tournament circa 1998, and going all out, I even preheated the oven. The only thing left to do was BAKE. 

Beat the egg whites, gradually add the sugar, add the egg yolks. Nothing too taxing there. Fold in the double sifted dry ingredients, fold in the boiling water. Here's where I panicked a little: I'm pretty sure my folding was too heavy handed and I could see a few bigger bubbles starting to get in there and the mixture lost a bit of its fluffiness. Nonetheless, I had a light, custard coloured mixture that I divided evenly into my two prepared tins, and popped into the oven. 

I set my timer for 18 minutes and sat back to do some reading. At 18 minutes (after spending 15 mins trying to find where I was up to in my novel and three minutes checking out Instagram), I committed Sponge Sin #1 and took a sneaky look at the sponges in the oven and decided that the recommended 20 mins baking time was, in fact, accurate. I left them there for another two. 

All in a flurry I removed the sponges from the oven; they were coming away from the tin at the edges, they sprang back when I pressed gently with my thumb (the thumb was specified in the recipe. I dared not risk using a forefinger), and the tops were sporting a subtle tan. 

Here's where I was working from my memories of mum baking sponges: she would get them out of the oven and, with but a blink of an eye, she would have them out of their tins, up the right way and on the cooling rack. This leads me to believe that speed here is vital. I hustled thusly, and there were my two sponges. Though far from perfect, they were sitting pretty. The next logical step was to celebrate my relative success with an afternoon glass of wine. 

Upon cutting it was observed that the texture was a bit inconsistent. There were assorted sized holes throughout, ranging from tinsy-tiny to probably-too-big-to-win-a-prize-at-the-show. The colour was a robust shade of yellow and the taste was like any other sponge your grandma ever made. I'm marking this down as a win for the Nursing Mothers' Association of Australia, and a win for sponges in general. 

So what did I learn here? I followed the recipe to the gram, so I think that ruled out the possibility of a complete failure, with the exception of burning it. The folding seems to be the trickiest part. You have to be quick, gentle and thorough, and make sure you scrape the edges of the bowl with a spatula for full incorporation of dry ingredients. Weighing out all the ingredients first and having them on guard made the process quick and streamlined. I should probably take this into the rest of my cooking life. 

When I have another go at this on another day and it turns out as well as this, I think I'll chill out regarding sponges and make them for literally every event I ever attend in the future. Getting one that's show-worthy is a-whole-nother matter though. There must be secret tricks and fancy techniques to get everything absolutely perfect.

Activate stage two of this journey: call in the experts. 

Jess's Sponge Attempt 1:

Oh dear. Oh dear. Oh DEAR. A SPONGE. Breath. Ok.

I'd gone to the mother-in-law's house to get the insider's tips on sponge. She gave me her (and I quote directly here) The-Easiest-Sponge-Ever Recipe. But I proved her wrong, yes I did. I overcooked it, it had a crust. I FREAKED OUT, y'all. I was paranoid about the sifting, I was paranoid about the beating of the eggs. The recipe said a moderate oven: I freaked out about what that was exactly. But I smothered it in cream and jam and put strawberries on top and ate it. And, no I wouldn't have won a competition with that, but it got eaten (with a very polite "oh, maybe next time just a little less cooking, but just a little otherwise it's great". It wasn't great).

The lesson: even a shit sponge will taste wicked lashed with cream and jam. And, calm the hell down and just follow the directions.

Jess's Sponge Attempt 2:

Armed with a new recipe, Stephanie Alexander's, and inspiration in the form of Leanne's glorious sponge I tried again. It's a calming process beating eggs, it a simple process with such stunning results. Success, this sponge is light, soft, fluffy and encouraging. Bring. It. On. Bendigo Show! (After a few more attempts.)