Jaffa Cakes are a bit of a ledge in my home country.
To be perfectly honest, I have absolutely zero idea why. I hate the things. However, I am aware my views are not shared by most of the my fellow country-mates.
There is much talk about the saintly Jaffa Cake, with the biggest conundrum this century being: is it a cake or a biscuit (cookie)? Seriously, there’s more debate about this than global warming. Closely followed by: how do you eat yours? Well, I’d rather not eat mine at all, actually.
I am not sure how well known Jaffas are outside the UK. For those of you oblivious to their presence, they have a Genoise sponge base (dry). They are topped with orange jam (too sweet), and covered with chocolate (non-descript).
Ah, okay. I think I’ve clearly shown where my bias lies, and as I don’t want to alienate a whole nation, I will stop right there.
My kids love Jaffa Cakes but
thank goodness unfortunately we can’t buy them in Sweden (to my knowledge).
So I decided to make my own. I used a simple pound cake recipe for the base. I then made my own orange “jam”, finishing off with a thick, luscious dolloping of dark chocolate ganache.
The cake isn’t healthy – there’s too much white sugar in there to ever try to attempt to call it that.
However, it is gluten free (made with a ready mixed blend), and the dark chocolate is 80% cocoa. So, not healthy per se, but perfect for a weekend treat.
I was really pleased at how it turned out. It tasted pretty authentic (despite not liking the real thing, I have eaten them on occasion. Come on! They’re cake. Or biscuit.). My ten year old said it was exactly like eating a Jaffa Cake. High praise, indeed.
The sponge was soft with just the right amount of sweetness and the orange jam provided a delicious tang. The dark chocolate had a little honey added, allowing the richness to shine through without the bitter edge that can sometimes happen with less sweet chocolate. All the flavour sensations came together just perfectly.
The cake is small – I used a 6″ springform, but it’s perfect for a family of four, yielding 8 small slices.