The prospect of Carrot cake has, for much of my life, been an alluring one, and, as Britain increasingly aspired to be vindicated as a nation of foodies, the humble carrot cake of my childhood has become a far more sophisticated item. With the addition of nuts, Pineapple, and Passion fruit, amongst a variety of other potential ingredients, it now is often seen in a far more exotic guise.
And it was, with a slight degree of trepidation, that I approached this (sizeable) slice of cake. With a label that seems not to have altered in the past 20 years (an unintentionally apt throwback!), and the cornrow topping, I had a mental idea of what this would taste like.
I was swept up in nostalgia. Its enormity made me feel six years old, when everything was preposterously oversized, Lifting (anchoring) the wedge from its plastic coffin, curiosity got a hold of me and I couldn’t resist the temptation of finding out quite how hefty it was. Impressively, it weighed in a little under 170g!
Taking a fork to it (I was trying to maintain my limited dignity, you must understand!), I first noticed the combined aroma of carrot and the sweet cream cheese, before devouring the chunk. The spongy texture was similar to Mr Kipling slices but was surprised that it was a little on the dry side since the carrot pieces were clearly visible (and a the perfect size). The topping had a smooth consistency, and none of the grittiness of poorly mixed sugar. Thankfully, this meant it was not overly sweet but was lacking in any strong spice element, a real hindrance since there were none of the additional flavours mentioned above. As a result it seemed very much like the cake of my childhood, and something I enjoyed as though meeting an old friend.
Generic in the best possible sense, this is not a cake for gourmets. Rather, it appeals to those of us who remember carrot cake as a rather uncomplicated symbol of simpler times. My advice, if the cake still sounds appealing, is to use it as a comfort aid reserved for when you want to be wrapped in a duvet and protected from the harsh world.
In a Word and a Number... Nostalgic [70]
