A Cake With a Long Memory

There is a particular kind of afternoon that calls for seed cake. Not a birthday, not a celebration, not anything you could put a name to — just a quiet Tuesday when the light is going soft and the kettle has already been on twice. Seed cake belongs to that hour. It is a plain, old-fashioned thing, pale gold and faintly speckled, and it has been on British tea tables for the best part of three hundred years.

You will find it in Victorian cookery books, in the pages of country-house diaries, and in the recollections of anyone who grew up in a farmhouse kitchen with a tin of cake kept under a cloth. It fell out of fashion somewhere in the middle of the last century, when caraway began to taste old-fashioned and shop cakes tasted of nothing much at all. That is a pity, and it is easily remedied. Bake one this week.

What You Will Need

The beauty of this cake is that it asks for nothing unusual. You probably have most of it already.

• 175g unsalted butter, softened to room temperature — proper butter, not a spread
• 175g caster sugar
• 3 medium eggs, beaten lightly in a jug
• 250g self-raising flour, sifted with a pinch of salt
• 2 tsp caraway seeds — start here, then adjust to your taste next time
• 1 tbsp milk, plus a little more if the mixture is stiff
• A grating of nutmeg or a pinch of ground mace, if you like
• 1–2 tbsp brandy or sherry, optional but very traditional

You will also want an 18cm round cake tin, greased and lined with baking parchment, and an oven set to 170°C fan or 180°C conventional.

Making the Cake, Step by Step

Cream the butter and sugar until the mixture is genuinely pale and fluffy — give it a good five minutes with an electric mixer, or longer by hand. This step does most of the work of giving you a tender crumb, so do not rush it. Add the beaten egg a little at a time, beating well after each addition. If it looks as though it might curdle, add a spoonful of the flour to bring it back.

Fold in the remaining flour, the caraway seeds and the nutmeg with a large metal spoon. Use a folding motion, cutting down through the mixture and turning it over, rather than stirring it round. Add the milk and the brandy, if using, and fold again until you have a soft, dropping consistency — the mixture should fall from the spoon with a gentle nudge, not a thud.

Spoon it into the prepared tin and level the top with the back of the spoon. Bake on the middle shelf for 50 to 60 minutes, until the cake is risen, firm to a light touch and a skewer pushed into the centre comes out clean. If it is browning too quickly, lay a piece of parchment loosely over the top after about 40 minutes.

Leave it in the tin for ten minutes, then turn it out onto a wire rack. Resist cutting it warm — seed cake improves markedly as it cools, and better still after a day in a tin.

Caraway, and How Much of It

Caraway is the whole point of the cake, and it is also the reason some people avoid it. The seeds are small, dark, curved and faintly aniseed in character, with a warm, slightly peppery finish. They were once a standard flavouring in British baking, used in biscuits, breads and digestive cordials long before vanilla and chocolate took over.

Two teaspoons gives a cake that is unmistakably a seed cake but still gently mannered. Three is for the converted. If you are cooking for someone who claims to dislike caraway, do not reduce the quantity to a token pinch — half measures taste like a mistake rather than a decision. Either commit or bake a plain madeira instead. A few cooks add a tablespoon of crushed, lightly toasted seeds to the top of the cake before baking, which gives a pleasant crunch and a good smell in the kitchen.

Keeping, Variations and Good Habits

Seed cake keeps beautifully. Wrapped in parchment and then in foil, or stored in a proper cake tin, it will be at its best for four or five days and perfectly good for a week. It also freezes well, sliced or whole, for up to three months.

• Lemon version: add the finely grated zest of one lemon and use lemon juice in place of the brandy
• Drier, older style: reduce the butter to 150g and add an extra tablespoon of milk
• Loaf tin: bake in a 900g loaf tin at the same temperature for 45 to 55 minutes
• Buttered: a thin scrape of salted butter on a slice is entirely traditional and entirely recommended

The Pot That Goes With It

Seed cake wants a plain, brisk tea rather than anything perfumed. An Assam or a good English breakfast, brewed in a pot and given three or four minutes, is the right answer. If you are making it for an afternoon in the garden, a pot of Earl Grey is a fine alternative, and in the depths of winter a lapsang souchong alongside it makes the whole kitchen smell like a wood fire.

Cut it in generous wedges, put the rest back under the cloth, and sit down properly while you eat it. That, more than any ingredient, is what makes a seed cake taste the way it is supposed to.