Bloody good orange cake

There are those out there who drive themselves crazy coveting other people’s shoes or husbands or loft conversions or promotions - but I myself suffer food envy. If there’s a seasonal ingredient I haven’t had in my hot little hands I start to get a bit twitchy and panicky. It’s pathetic actually. But so it was the other day when a fellow food blogger mentioned he’d gone and got himself a nice little bag of blood oranges. The cheek. Needless to say I abandoned my VAT accounts and headed to the fruit shop without delay.

I love blood oranges. I adore their blush and their tang. I love the thrill you get every time you cut one open to expose the crimson flesh. I love to arrange them in my fruit bowl like the Dutch Masters. I love them because you can’t have them most of the year. And coming as they do at the end of drab old winter, I love the way they evoke the promise of sunny days ahead.

The ones I managed to get hold of so early in the season were the tarocco variety from Italy - the name is derived, it is said, from the exclamation of wonder expressed by the farmer shown this fruit by its discoverer. I like to think the story is true. Their scarlet hue is not as brilliant as some of the other varieties, but pour the freshly-squeezed juice into a glass and you have one of the prettiest colours in nature’s palette.

I’ve most commonly eaten blood oranges in the salad so beloved of Italians and Spaniards: thin segments of orange, wafer-thin slices of fennel bulb, salty black olives and fresh herbs, tossed together with a vinaigrette and a spritz of orange. It got me wondering whether the blood orange and fennel liaison would work well in a cake. And I am very happy to report that it does. The result is a bit like an exotic lemon drizzle cake. And we’re talking fennel back notes here, not liquorice-flavoured baked goods. This cake is stupidly simple to make and the syrup is divine. In fact, I suggest concocting twice the recommended quantity of syrup so you have some to pour over the sliced cake when you serve or to drizzle over ice cream. If you want to add an extra spice dimension, toss a star anise into the pan when you simmer the syrup.

Blood orange and fennel seed cake

• 120g/4oz unsalted butter, softened
• 180g/6oz self-raising flour
• 1 level teaspoon baking powder
• 250g/8oz caster sugar
• 2 eggs
• 2 tablespoons milk
• Finely grated zest and juice of 2 blood oranges
• 1 teaspoon fennel seeds
• half teaspoon aniseeds
• 1 star anise (optional)

1. Preheat the oven to 180ºC/350°F/Gas 4.Grease and line a 20cm loose-bottomed cake tin.

2. Put the butter, flour, baking powder, 6oz of the sugar, milk and zest in a large bowl and beat until smooth. Scrape the mixture into the prepared cake tin, smooth the top and cook for 25 minutes, or until a skewer comes out clean.

3. Meanwhile, roast the fennel seeds and aniseeds in a small frying pan over a medium heat for about 2 minutes, or until fragrant. Transfer to a pestle and grind the seeds as fine as possible.

4. In a small pan, combine the remaining sugar, juice, ground seeds and star anise (if using). Bring to the boil, reduce the heat and simmer until the mixture has thickened to a syrup. Set aside.

5. When the cake is cooked, leave to cool in the tin for a couple of minutes then poke holes in the top with a chopstick (this works more effectively than a skewer in my opinion). Pour the syrup over the cake, making sure it works its way into the holes. The syrup must seep into the cake completely before you remove it from the tin.