Dear Nan: Nan's Sponge Cake

A favourite of theirs for over 70 years!

Nan’s sponge cake was a favourite in their household. From the time they were married, right through to the last birthday cake she ever made, in her late 80s, it was her favourite cake. If it was her birthday she would always make herself a sponge cake, filled with jam and cream, topped with more cream, and oodles of fresh or tinned fruit. If it was Grandpa’s birthday, the same cake would be made. Anyone else who happened to celebrate a birthday in Nan’s home would also receive a freshly baked sponge cake.

It was them. It was the way they rolled. They were the loaded sponge cake family;)

To be perfectly honest, I have never been all that fond of sponge cake. To me, it’s the dry cake option. Yes, Nan’s was smothered with jam and cream and fruit, and yes, that made it tasty, for sure. But honestly, I am a moist cake fan and so I have never really enjoyed making nor eating sponge cakes.

So why on earth would I choose to share this recipe with you?

Well, although I am not a fan of sponge cakes per se, my memories of Nan’s sponge cakes are pretty lovely ones, and it’s those memories that make this recipe a must share. It was her signature cake. The cake that she poured all of her love into. Every bit of her celebratory happiness was infused within the layers of these cakes, year after year, after year.

Flicking through family photos, over the decades, that cream and fruit loaded sponge featured often. Through the early days of pre-kids, to each of their children’s birthdays, to their children’s kid’s birthdays, and well into the years when it was just the two of them. That cake stood the test of time and made it’s way through to the end. It even showed up at Christmas time. There was pudding, Christmas cake, a batch of lamingtons and always a cream and fruit loaded sponge cake.

Can you scrape the passionfruit please, Darl.

Would you like to whip the cream?

Who wants to chop the bananas?

There would be a job delegated to whomever was willing, and with 17 grandchildren, there was never a shortage of help. Someone to chop the fruit, someone to deal with the passionfruit (either fresh or from a tin - there HAD to be passionfruit!). Someone to whip the cream. Someone to spread the homemade jam.

We loved to help her with this ritual. It never changed. We got to know the process off by heart very quickly, and by adulthood we had all become pros. The smell of passionfruit, and banana reminds me of those days. But the baking of the sponge, that was Nan’s job. She could whip up a sponge in no time flat and none of us ever got in the way of that.

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