Lemon Orange Cake

First week of December. Snow Tuesday — heavy, four inches, a real storm not just a flurry. The property got white. I shoveled the porch. I shoveled the path to the workshop. I shoveled the path to the firewood pile. The shoveling was harder than I would like — the shoulder protested but did not fail. I stopped twice and rested. Hannah watched from the kitchen window. She came out at one point and took the shovel from me. She finished. I let her. The pride had to bend.

The cohort's last week. The eight final projects came in beautifully. The fifty-eight-year-old woman's garden trellis was elegant. The young metalworker's horse was unexpectedly emotional — he'd done it in a kind of cubist style, simplified planes, and the horse was both abstract and exact. The twin brothers' fire pokers were complementary in a way that moved me — one had a bird-shaped finial, one had a fish-shaped finial, and the brothers had grown up fishing together. The retired veteran's cane was walnut and steel and the most graceful piece in the bay. The nineteen-year-old's cleaver was sharp. The kitchen knife student's knife was beautiful. The mailbox post was the most fun — she'd added a copper bird on top.

Friday graduation. Bilingual certificates, the way Lily had done them. Eight new welders into the world. The fifty-eight-year-old woman cried when I handed her hers. She said: thirty-eight years was actually thirty-eight years, and I waited eighteen more, and now I have it. She said: it's about my mother. I said: tell me. She said: my mother told me when I was twenty that women didn't weld. She died last year. She said: I started this class four months after she died. She said: I waited until she was gone. I waited until I could do this without her objection. I read her certificate. I handed it to her in Cherokee and English. She held it. She said: thank you. I said: you're welcome.

Caleb came Saturday. Miriam was unpacking boxes at his place — fully moved in now — and Caleb came alone. He said: she's home. I said: yes. He said: I am too. I said: yes. He said: thank you. I said: for what. He said: for not giving up on me. I said: I never thought about giving up. He said: that's a lie. I said: it's a useful lie. He laughed.

After Caleb left Saturday I stood in the kitchen for a while and didn’t do much of anything — just let the week settle. Eight graduates. A woman who waited fifty-six years. A brother who said thank you. Hannah took the shovel from me and I let her, and that was its own kind of gift. A week like that needs something layered and bright to close it out, and this lemon orange cake has been my answer to milestones for years: citrus for clarity, layers for everything that stacked up to get you there.

Prep Time: 25 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 1 hr (plus cooling) | Servings: 12

Ingredients

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
2 cups granulated sugar
4 large eggs, room temperature
1 tbsp fresh lemon zest (from about 2 lemons)
1 tbsp fresh orange zest (from about 1 large orange)
2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
2 tbsp fresh orange juice
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 cup whole milk, room temperature
For the citrus frosting:
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
4 cups powdered sugar, sifted
2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
2 tbsp fresh orange juice
1 tsp lemon zest
1 tsp orange zest
Pinch of salt
2–3 tbsp heavy cream, as needed for consistency

Instructions

Preheat and prepare. Heat oven to 350°F. Grease and flour two 9-inch round cake pans, then line the bottoms with parchment paper.
Mix dry ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.
Cream butter and sugar. In a large bowl, beat softened butter and granulated sugar with an electric mixer on medium-high speed until pale and fluffy, about 4–5 minutes. Scrape the bowl down as needed.
Add eggs and flavorings. Add eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Mix in lemon zest, orange zest, lemon juice, orange juice, and vanilla extract until combined.
Alternate dry and wet. With the mixer on low, add the flour mixture in three additions, alternating with the milk in two additions (flour—milk—flour—milk—flour). Mix just until each addition is incorporated; do not overmix.
Bake. Divide batter evenly between the prepared pans and smooth the tops. Bake for 30–35 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean and the edges pull slightly from the pan.
Cool completely. Let cakes rest in the pans on a wire rack for 15 minutes, then turn out and cool completely before frosting — at least 1 hour. Do not frost a warm cake.
Make the frosting. Beat softened butter until smooth and creamy, about 2 minutes. Add sifted powdered sugar one cup at a time, mixing on low. Add lemon juice, orange juice, zests, and a pinch of salt. Beat on medium-high until light and fluffy, 3–4 minutes. Add heavy cream one tablespoon at a time until frosting is spreadable but holds its shape.
Assemble and frost. Place one cake layer on a serving plate. Spread a generous layer of frosting over the top. Set the second layer on top, then frost the top and sides of the whole cake. Smooth with an offset spatula or bench scraper.
Garnish and serve. Finish with additional lemon and orange zest curled over the top if desired. Slice and serve at room temperature.

Nutrition (per serving)

Lemon Orange Cake — For the Week When Eight New Welders Walked Out the Door