For My Lady's Heart Blood Orange Olive Oil Cake

Laura Kinsale never disappoints me. In For My Lady's Heart, she has written a masterpiece, not just of romance, but of universal literary merit. It's one of the most subversive works of literature I've read. Well, listened to actually. My husband and I got the audio book and played it in the car on road trips for about six months. And since I'm going to spend the rest of this review talking about myths and cake, let me just say that Nicholas Boulton's narration of this book is outstanding. Well worth acquiring, even if you've already read it. What Kinsale subverts in this book though isn't just narrative structure or genre conventions. No, she's got a much bigger target: the archetypal heroic story arc that underpins much of humanity's storytelling.

For My Lady's Heart's romantic arc begins with the hero and heroine's meet-cute across a crowded room full of priests and petitioners. The hero is instantly attracted to the beautiful, sophisticated heroine, who promptly laughs at him, then saves his ass when he gets in over his head. He pledges his life and sword to her and they go their separate ways, she with her court, he to earn his name and seek his fortune. We rejoin the couple years later when Melanthe is now the widow of a powerful Italian noble, has promised to wed yet another Italian noble, and is journeying home to England to solidify her claim to some land that her soon-to-be-betrothed wants to get his dastardly hands on. Another chance meeting brings Ruck back into her life, this time for good, and he serves as her bodyguard on the trip back north. Nothing goes as planned of course, their pasts catch up with both of them and they have to learn to either stay apart forever or work together.

For My Lady's Heart is anything but straightforward, however. Right away, both my husband and I keyed in on the fact that Ruck calls himself "The Green Knight" in lieu of a name for much of the story. Even before Kinsale hopped into a conversation I was having with Lisa Hendrix on Twitter to say that she'd been inspired by Tolkien's translation of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, the parallels were obvious. If you're not familiar though, basically, we're talking King Arthur here, which clued us into the idea that the book would follow Ruck, his mysterious identity and daring exploits. There's a whole tradition of this kind of literary behavior going back to the beginning of written story-telling. It's the "hero's journey" Joseph Campbell talks about in The Hero With A Thousand Faces: the man leaves home to seek adventure, experiences trials, hits rock bottom, transforms, rights his wrongs, reconciles with his father and emerges triumphant, returning home a hero. That's Ruck's story completely. It's also Luke Skywalker's. And Thor's in the Marvel movie. If you ever studied The Odyssey or Gilgamesh in school, you probably learned about this concept. There's a reason it's considered archetypal.

What's fascinating to me about veering off from something like the hero's journey in a romance novel though, a genre written primarily for, by, and about women, is that those stories are all about the dudes. They're the heroes. The protectors. Large and in charge, even when being buffeted by life. The women are mainly witches, connivers and adulteresses; goddesses and temptresses; Madonnas and whores. They're dramatic foils; obstacles that get in the way of the heroes' honorable impulses.

But what about the "heroine's journey"; a woman's archetypal/literary/epic/mythological path? I'm not sure there is one, at least not one that doesn't focus exclusively on fertility. It's not like most Medieval men ran off and became knights. Or that Grecian peasants were out sailing the Mediterranean for a decade or two. For high school literature students, Elizabeth Bennett might have been the first female main character encountered who was written by a woman. Before that it's all Penelope, Hester Prynne and Lady Macbeth. At least, it was at my school. And while I will never say anything negative about Austen because of course I adore her books, her world was small. The heroes in epics and myths, their worlds are not small. Melanthe's world is not small. Melanthe plays on the highest levels of the Medieval international political stage. She's skilled at diplomacy and deception, but limited in power by her gender and hampered rather than helped by her beauty, which would be the more typical role of feminine beauty in an historical romance. And most people in the story believe that she is a witch who took lovers and murdered her husband.

Outside of the maiden, the mother or the crone, there's no script for Melanthe to follow. Even though she does rather torture Ruck in his celibacy, she for sure doesn't follow the archetypal path of mythological women. She's not a goddess or a witch or a whore or a virtuous woman who stays home and waits for her husband to return triumphant. And, well, maybe that's the point. Despite what everyone would want to believe of Melanthe, how they perceive her, how they would use her or how they would change her (Ruck included), she resists. She remains her own paranoid, difficult, irascible self, refusing all aid and comfort, solving her own problems and shaping her world to suit herself. She proves not to be a witch on their trip through the marsh, not a whore in her sexual inexperience, not a mother or wife when they marry and arrive at Wolfscar, Ruck's castle, midway through the book.

Contrasted with the set path Ruck is allowed to tread, one worn into the literary bedrock over the course of centuries, Melanthe's is one of her own invention. She almost never does what either Ruck or the reader expect. Her values include her freedom, her life and perhaps the well-being of her beloved pet falcon. And whatever she has to be or do in order to preserve those things are what she does. She's rather infinitely adaptable actually, not particularly constrained by social mores, the Church or an inconveniently well-born husband despite being hyper-aware of those restrictions. Ruck is far below her in social standing and can't match her wits, except on rare occasions (and we do root for him when he stands up to her because he's so utterly outmatched most of the time). She makes her own way right to the very end. And speaking of the end, it's no one's triumph. It's an accident that delivers our heroine. Or an act of God.

For My Lady's Heart contains all this and yet, it still functions as a road trip romance. As Melanthe and Ruck journey together, sometimes together, sometimes apart, sometimes in harmony and sometimes (okay, mostly) not, their attraction to one another becomes obvious to both of them. However, Melanthe for fear of her political enemies and Ruck out of fear for his immortal soul, must resist the temptation they represent to each other. All that thwarted desire is awfully hot. We also get Kinsale's humor in hunting herons, slaying dragons, and jokes about sex and confession. The scene where Ruck and Melanthe consummate their unusual marriage and Ruck turns out to be rather a savant of sex as a result of his many, many forays into the confessional is one of the funniest things I've ever read. I went back and read the scene in the book to be sure that it wasn't only Boulton's impeccable comedic timing and it wasn't. Still funny.

I grabbed a used copy of For My Lady's Heart just so I could put it on my Very Favorite Book Ever shelf next to Flowers From the Storm and Prince of Midnight. It's just...everything.

C'est n'est pas Wolfscar.

In my head, this post was going to utilize this pan. Perhaps with a great deal of green food coloring. And probably some Dungeons & Dragons miniatures. Why? Well, how often do you get to use a bundt pan in the shape of a castle? And there are, like, four castles in this book. I mean, really.

But then I realized that there actually is food in For My Lady's Heart. In fact, there's kind of a whole thing about oranges and almonds. Melanthe's decision to share her treats with Ruck represents a shift for her in terms of both how she thinks of him and how she thinks of herself. For the first time, she's laid bare. And he's not sure what to make of that at all.

As for this cake, it's a little bit fussy, but if you follow the instructions exactly, it should work out fine. The first time I tried making the original recipe for a friend who's dairy free, I was too fast and loose with the process and it didn't rise properly. I don't specifically recall what I did, but I'm guessing I probably oiled the sides of the pan. Don't do that. This is sort of a chiffon-type cake and it needs to be able to cling to the sides to rise.

So anyway, when I modified the recipe for this post, I was extra special careful and it turned out fine. I'd say...er...don't fiddle with this one. If you don't have the precise right ingredients (blood oranges are rapidly going out of season and dried orange peel may require a trip to a specialty spice shop) and tools (you'll need a 9-inch spring form pan and parchment paper), make something else or go shopping first. Cool? Cool.

For more photos of this cake, visit Cooking Up Romance on Facebook. I often stash extra photos there so you can see what each step of the process is supposed to look like.


Blood Orange Olive Oil Cake
adapted from epicurious
Makes: 12 servings
Time: 2 1/2 hours (hands-on: 45 minutes)
Difficulty: Advanced

3/4 cup extra virgin olive oil, plus more for pan
2 blood oranges, zested (1 1/2 tablespoons zest)
2 tablespoons blood orange juice
1 cup cake flour
1 teaspoon dried orange peel
5 egg yolks, 4 egg whites
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup plus 1 1/2 tablespoons granulated sugar, divided

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Oil the bottom of a 9-inch spring form pan. Place a piece of parchment in the bottom and close the pan. Oil the parchment only (not the sides).

2. In a food processor, pulse together the blood orange zest, cake flour and dried orange peel until combined.

3. In a large bowl, beat together egg yolks and 1/2 cup of sugar with an electric mixer on high speed until thick and pale (about 3 minutes). Add 3/4 cup of olive oil and 2 tablespoons of blood orange juice. Mix until combined. Stir in the flour mixture (by hand--do not use mixer).

4. Wash the electric mixer beaters thoroughly. In another large bowl, beat egg whites until foamy. Add 1/4 cup of sugar a little at a time until sugar is incorporated and egg whites form soft peaks.

5. Gently fold 1/3 of the egg whites into the egg yolk and flour mixture to lighten it, then fold in remaining egg whites carefully, but thoroughly.

6. Pour batter into prepared pan and gently tap to release air bubbles. Sprinkle with remaining 1 1/2 tablespoons of sugar. Bake until puffed and golden, 35-45 minutes, or until a skewer inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean.

7. Cool the cake on a rack for 10 minutes, then run a knife around the edge of the cake and remove the side of pan. Cool cake to room temperature, about 1 1/4 hours. Remove the bottom of the pan, peel off parchment and serve.

Disclosure: Laura Kinsale and I follow each other on Twitter and engage in occasional conversation.

Gossamer Wing Fruit-Bedecked Meringue

Steampunk romance is tricky. I generally want to like it more than I actually do. From a genre romance perspective, it seems like it would be a powerful combination to add a fantasy or science fiction element to alternative history: all the atmosphere of a historical with none of the rigidly defined social conventions or ultra-precise historical reckonings (in theory, though this book, Gossamer Wing by Delphine Dryden, adhered to some typically Victorian social conventions and it worked very well).

The problem seems to be that the loosey-goosey nature of the steampunk subgenre lends itself to a mix of science fiction and fantasy, blending pseudoscience with clearly fantastical elements resulting in murky world-building. The ones I have liked, this one by Dryden, and Prosperity by Alexis Hall (out later this month), seem to decide between a science-heavy worldview and a magic (or fantasy science) worldview. Dryden's offering is more science-based. Hall's is more mystical. Both work equally well.

Gossamer Wing is a humorous, fast-paced, sexy romance that flips the traditional adventurer-solider-spy/bluestocking pairing on its head. The action-packed adventure undertaken by Charlotte and Dexter is well-balanced with a marriage-of-convenience romance plot. Charlotte's spymaster father tries to distract her from the ongoing grief of her first husband's death at the hands of a French spy by interesting her in a mission in France.

Dexter is known as the legendary Makesmith Baron. Not only has he made much of the equipment Charlotte uses to fly her personal dirigible, the Gossamer Wing, he may be able to solve a problem with an underwater base the British and Americans hope to utilize in their ongoing cold war with the French. By enacting a temporary marriage, Charlotte's father hopes Dexter can keep Charlotte safe (though in reality Charlotte ends up keeping Dexter safe most of the time) and keep their cover intact as honeymooners vacationing in France.

Charlotte is delightfully independent and capable. She has education, training and wits. She reminds me a bit of Miss Fisher from Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries. She's not completely averse to violence, but she, like Dexter, mostly thinks her way out of tight spots. Speaking of Dexter, he is quintessentially tall, dark and handsome, but also a raging geek, in true Dryden fashion. He's also more emotionally intelligent and more sexually experienced than Charlotte and it's him driving their relationship to a large extent.

I adored both Charlotte and Dexter and will hope to catch glimpses of them in the rest of the series. If all the books in the Steam and Seduction series are as good as Gossamer Wing, I will be happy to say I've finally found a steampunk romance series worth reading.

I suspect that you will be quite skeptical when I tell you what's in this. See, it has some to my attention that an awful lot of my favorite people avoid both gluten and dairy. And when it comes to my desserts, well, they're pretty much full of both gluten and dairy. Think people are 70% water? Not me! I am 70% heavy cream. The rest is flour.

I'm pretty sure that's true. Yep.

So when the running joke endearments between the hero and heroine in Gossamer Wing took a turn for the food-related and the little gem "fruit be-decked meringue" popped up, well, I knew that was 1) perfect for the book and 2) something all my Twitter buddies can eat!

"But, Elisabeth," you're probably thinking. "What is all that fluffy white stuff pouring out of your meringue cups if not whipped cream?" That, my friend, is whipped coconut milk. It's refrigerated and whipped and whipped and whipped in the stand mixer until it is soft and fluffy like loose whipped cream. My understanding is that if you refrigerate it over night, flip it over and pour out the liquid from the bottom that you can get it much stiffer, but that was not my objective here. Soft and fluffy works great.

I actually made two versions of this dessert, the one pictured here which is tropical fruit, whipped coconut milk and meringue cups and a version of the British dessert Eton Mess, which is normally fruit, whipped cream and broken up meringue cookies. Either one works, but the cups photographed better so that's what you get here. Check out my Twitter feed for the Eton Mess version if you're curious. If you do want to try piping your own meringue cups, here's a little video I made showing how I went about doing that.


If you don't have three hours to spend waiting for meringues to dry out in the oven, you can make those ahead of time and keep them in the freezer. And meringue cups are available in some grocery stores. That takes this from an almost four hour project to a 10 minute one. Just cut up your fruit, whip your coconut milk and you're on your way. Oh, and resist the impulse to sub in whipping cream for the coconut milk. It's really quite, quite good for a simple little thing.

Fruit-Bedecked Meringue
Makes: 6 servings
Time: 4 1/2 hours (hands on time: approximately 15 minutes)
adapted from How Sweet It Is and Martha Stewart

3 egg whites, room temperature
1/2 cup superfine sugar
1/4 teaspoon vanilla
1 can unsweetened full fat coconut milk, refrigerated overnight
2 tablespoons powdered sugar
8-12 ounces tropical fruit, chopped (I bought an 8 ounce pre-cut tub from Whole Foods and supplemented it with a kiwi that I cut up myself)

1. Preheat oven to 200 degrees. On a sheet of parchment paper on a cookie tray, draw 6 circles approximately 3" in diameter by tracing a biscuit cutter, drinking glass or other appropriately sized object with a pencil. Flip the parchment paper over so pencil doesn't get on your cookies.

2. Using hand mixer, whip egg whites on medium-low until frothy. Turn up mixer to medium and whip until soft peaks form. Add superfine sugar and vanilla. Whip on high until they form firm, glossy peaks.

3. In a piping bag fitted with a large star tip starting the center of one of the pre-traced circles on parchment, pipe first a circle, then a little wall to make a meringue cup. See the video above if these instructions aren't clear.

4. Bake for 1 hour at 200 degrees. Turn the oven down to 175 degrees and bake for an addition 3 to 4 hours or until meringues easily lift from the parchment paper without sticking.

5. Whip the coconut milk on high in a stand mixer for about 5 minutes or until fluffy while the meringues cool.

6. Layer fruit on top of meringue cups and whipped coconut milk on top of the fruit. Serve immediately.

Disclosure: Delphine Dryden and I are friendly on Twitter.