The beauty of Tequila and Lime

At Easter brunch last weekend the former pastry chef of the hotel came up to me and asked me about the pound cake that was at the flambe station. A lemon pound cake with the texture of crumbly sand and the color of the sun on a brilliant summer's day. 'Surely you don't make this,' came the questioning look on his face. I shrugged, clearly embarrassed by the fact that the nicest hotel in town serves a neon yellow pound cake that smells so strongly of lemon that it could be mistaken for the smell of floor cleaner.

"We buy that in." I say, as I shake my head sadly. It is one of the only things we don't make at the hotel. It isn't the first time that a chef has made a comment about the sad state of pound cake at the hotel. Why don't we make our own? We make almost everything else.

I have a wonderful recipe for a lemon cake. Simple in it's texture; it is moist and carries a hint of natural lemon zest and juice. The outside glazed with a sugary lemon mixture. I love the elegance of simple. I decided to take this one step further and played around with the flavoring of the cake. Lemon is wonderful, but limes are so often overlooked when it comes to cake.



I omitted the lemon zest in my recipe and added lime. This combined with the heady delight of real vanilla bean is incredibly lovely. By brushing the outside with a combination of tequila and sugar it soaks in to the outer layer of the cake and is reminiscent of a margarita. It is perfect for dreaming of sunny days when the outside world is dreary and damp with the prospect of spring right around the corner.