When the bomb gives you satsumas: satsuma buttermilk loaf cake

And  that, Ragazzi, is quite a mouthful.  In more ways than one.  Now, by way of explication.  Many of you will remember the expression: "when life gives you lemons, make lemonade."  Well, the Citrus Bomb  provides Annalena with her lemons.  And her oranges.  Her blood oranges.  Her bergamots (reminds her of the Supremes song:  "Bergamot... My Bergamot..").  Well, citrus, like all things comes in seasons.  We ALL have to learn that.  There isn't always a season for oranges.  Or broccoli, or whatever.  In fact, if we were true to nature, there would be seasons to eggs, to duck, to chicken, to beef, to pork, and so forth.  But we have, ragazzi, gotten so far away from protein seasons that it is indeed a lost cause. 

Oh, another digression.  What a surprise.  Ok, the point here was.. (uh, wait a minute).
Oh, yes.  Annalena had a recipe calling for grated orange peel. Except... oranges were not quite in season yet.  And she was unwilling to buy anything less than the quality she gets from Kim da Bomb.  BUT.. she had a box of lovely (MORE than lovely), satsumas.  Now, grating the peel from a satsuma is no easy feat.  In fact, Annalena daresays, it is ridiculously challenging to do.  And she wanted this cake.  She wanted it badly.  So she found a solution.

She ground up the satsumas whole.  Why not?  They were not sprayed they have no seeds, what harm could there be?  And there wasn't any. Rather what there was, at the end was a wonderful cake where everyone knew there was a citrus kick, but no one could tell what it was. 

So, get yourself a couple of satsumas (actually, get more than a few.  Ask Annalena how to get them from Ms. Kim.  Eat the rest as fruit).  Now, let's make some cake.  And, ragazzi, this will be the last dessert recipe for a while, with no regrets.  We have much to cover on other fronts.

You start with a heaping three cups of all prupose flour.  Mix this with a tablespoon of baking powder, half a teaspoon of baking soda, and a teaspoon of salt.  Add a pinch of cinnamon - say a half teaspoon, maybe more .  And if there is a spice you like with citrus, use it.  For example, Annalena is convinced that this recipe will be awesome with cocoa in it. Do we have volunteers to try it?

Put those dry things to the side.  Now get two satsumas, make sure you take the label off of them, and cut them into quarters.  Put them in your food processor, and churn them to a wet puree.  Don't worry about  the fact that there's peel, or liquid. None of it is an issue.  And you can't overdo this step.  Put that aside.

And now,  in a mixer, start blending two sticks of softened, unsalted butter, with 2 cups of sugar.   When this looks nice and fluffy add that satsuma puree.  You may think things are curdling but worry not.  Now add 4 eggs, large, one at a time.  You may need to scrape down the bowl as you do this.

Ok, now we have our dry ingredients and you will also need half a cup of a dairy of some kind: sour cream was called for in Annalena's recipe, but she used creme fraiche.  You could also use plain yogurt, or a flavored yogurt.    Add that, as well as a good slug of vanilla.  Say half a tablespoon(which is.... come on, who knows?  If you guessed one and a half teaspoons, have an extra slice of this).    Your dry ingredients are there, and pour out a cup and a half of buttermilk.   And if you only have plain milk:  let's see a show of hands: who knows how to clabber milk, besides those of you who stare at it until it sours?  YES.  Nora, big and strong, got that one right:  a tablespoon of vinegar in the milk and let it sit. GOOD GIRL, Pecuniaria. 

Add about a cup of the dry ingredients, and when that looks combined, add half the buttermilk. Then repeat.  And finish with dry.

Now, get yourself three, 8x4 inch baking pans.  DO NOT USE  two larger ones.  The reason for this, is that this cake is going to take a long time to bake, and if you try a b igger pan, you risk never finishing it.  If you don't have three 8x4 pans, then use 8 inch cake pans.  Or muffin tins.  In any event, in this case, go SMALLER than the 8x4.  And grease everything well, and pour batter in.  Don't go more than half way up the pan,  regardless of what you use, knowing that this is not going to rise much.

Now get it in the oven at 350, and be patient.  You will need 45 minutes for the 8x4 pan, and less time for smaller, less deep variants.  You all need how to tell when it's done.  Show of hands?  GOOD SUE.  Knew you'd be here.  The knife in the center.  Gunky (NO GOOD), or dry (GOOD).  And if it's not,  good, let it bake some more.

When you're done, you need to be a  bit patient in unmolding these.  There is so much fat in this recipe, that the cakes are soft, tender , and delicate ( a combination Annalena has never found in men, by the way, but that's another story).  Let them rest for about twenty minutes, and unmold them.

Even though you do not have a syrup, the cake develops a nice, sweet, sticky top, and the cake itself is dense, and lovely.  It feels like breakfast.  It's not.  It's dessert.  Get some ice cream to go with it if you like (it cries for vanilla), and sit down and enjoy it.  And with three loaves, or whatever variations you have, you have plenty to share.  So, let's try not to think about the calories, because we will be sharing the stuff with our friends, yes?  And they will be sharing back with us?

Seriously, ragazzi, if you are of the type who likes to send homespun gifts, get little tiny, disposable loaf pans, and make this.  And if you do want to do it following the original, forget the satsumas and add a tablespoon of grated orange zest.  Annalena thinks you will like the satsuma version better. But try them both. Tell her. Let her know.

When she comes back, Annalena will have a killer lemon chicken recipe for you, and some incredible roasted vegetable recipes that will almost make you forget, it's winter.

A presto, amici!