Lemon Ricotta Cake

Helen's memorial garden was planted on May fifteenth. Carol drove over in the morning with the plants she'd ordered: three peonies in bud — one white, one deep pink, one the pale pink that Helen favored — the climbing rose with its first green leaves, six iris rhizomes in Helen's blue, and the Japanese maple at the center, two feet tall, already showing the first small red-tinged leaves of its season.

We worked together all afternoon, the two of us, laying out the stone border first and then placing the plants according to Carol's plan. Carol had the design in her head and she directed without directing — she just knew where things went and I handed her what she needed. The maple went in the center. The peonies at the back. The iris along the border. The climbing rose on a new trellis I'd built last week from cedar, at the corner where Helen's kitchen garden met the fence.

We finished around four o'clock and stood back and looked at it. The corner had been bare ground that morning and now it was something. Not finished — the peonies won't bloom this year, the rose will take two seasons to establish, the maple will fill in over years. A memorial garden is not for now. It's for accumulation. But it was planted, and the planting itself was enough for this afternoon.

Carol said: she'd have moved the iris. I said: probably. Carol said: good thing she's not here to tell us. We stood there for another few minutes without saying anything. The lilacs were still just past bloom above us. The property smelled of May and turned soil. There was nothing more to add to the afternoon. That was its own kind of completeness.

Carol left around five, and I stood in the kitchen for a while not quite ready to do anything else. I’d had a lemon and some ricotta in the refrigerator since the weekend, and I thought: that’s enough reason. A Lemon Ricotta Cake doesn’t ask much of you — it’s quiet work, the kind that suits the end of an afternoon like that one. Something bright but not loud, sweet but not celebratory in a way that would have felt wrong. Helen would have approved of the lemon.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
1 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs
1 cup whole-milk ricotta cheese
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice (about 2 lemons)
1 tablespoon lemon zest
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Powdered sugar, for dusting

Instructions

Preheat the oven. Heat your oven to 350°F. Grease a 9-inch round cake pan and line the bottom with parchment paper.
Mix dry ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Set aside.
Cream butter and sugar. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter and granulated sugar together with a hand mixer or stand mixer on medium speed until pale and fluffy, about 3 minutes.
Add eggs and ricotta. Beat in the eggs one at a time, then add the ricotta, lemon juice, lemon zest, and vanilla extract. Mix until smooth — the batter may look slightly curdled; that’s fine.
Combine wet and dry. Add the flour mixture to the ricotta mixture and stir gently with a spatula until just combined. Do not overmix.
Bake. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and smooth the top. Bake for 40—45 minutes, until the top is golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
Cool and serve. Let the cake cool in the pan for 10 minutes, then turn it out onto a wire rack to cool completely. Dust with powdered sugar before slicing.

Nutrition (per serving)

Lemon Ricotta Cake — Something Sweet for the End of a Long, Good Afternoon