I don’t often bake things with orange in them. I’ve made things with lemon, but somehow, not with orange. I’m not sure why, but orange doesn’t seem like a popular flavor in baked goods. At least, compared to some other popular fruits, like lemons, apples, blueberries, bananas, etc.
Maybe it’s because it’s too acidic. Maybe it’s because people think oranges only belong in juice. Yes, that must be it. So then how did someone decide to put something that’s associated with juice into baked goods? It was probably out of desperation…
Trista looked at her latest conquest, lying naked in her bed. She stared at his naked body and was reminded of what happened last night. She had met him in a club. She was pretty hammered from the multiple fuzzy navels that hot guys had bought her. She never had a problem getting guys to buy her drinks. He was similarly hammered, with rum and coke his drink of choice. Soon, they found themselves grinding against each other. Their hot bodies pressed against one another, like businessmen on a train during rush hour in Japan. Their hands found their way down each other’s pants, and pretty soon, they couldn’t resist their animalistic urges.
Her place was right down the street from the club. Trista led her hot new encounter down the street. He followed so willingly, like a dog being led to food. But how could anyone resist her? Her long, flowing brown hair brushed ever so gently against her smooth back, her black dress exposing just enough to tease a man’s desires. Her breasts were round and perky, without being so large that anyone would suspect that they weren’t real. This man was just following in the footsteps of several dozen men before him. And those footsteps led right up to her apartment.
She barely had enough time to throw her purse onto the couch before they started ripping each other’s clothes off. Her tight little black dress took a little bit of wiggling to get off, but it was nothing that two horny twenty-somethings couldn’t accomplish. Her black lace bra came off effortlessly in comparison, revealing to him her breasts that were just begging to be squeezed. He was as hard as a rock. His black shirt’s buttons practically undid themselves, and it was just as quickly thrown sloppily onto the couch. Their tongues were madly darting back and forth against each other. Trista gripped his hard chest and simultaneously tore off his pants, while he grabbed onto her supple bosom. They could feel each other through their underwear. His throbbing erection was brushing up against her dripping vagina. These things had to come off. Now.
In an instant, they were in her bed, and he ripped off her red panties. Her shaved glory was in plain sight. The man’s tongue shot into her vagina, and she felt the wetness on her clitoris. She hadn’t been touched this way in quite some time. She moaned with pleasure, throwing her head back as if she had been hit by a bus. Waves of pleasure coursed throughout her body. This must be what heaven is like, she thought. A hot guy eating her out.
It was his turn to feel indescribable pleasure. She tore off his boxers, revealing his throbbing erection. He, too, was dripping wet from all the excitement. She wrapped her mouth around his member, as he let out a loud moan, almost as if he were mimicking her. She could feel his pulse through his engorged organ. Words could not describe the pleasure he was feeling. It was all he could do to keep from shooting into her mouth right now.
They seemed to telepathically decide together that the foreplay was over. It was time for the real business to begin. He straddled her and penetrated her, gently but deeply. Trista could feel him inside of her. The warmth that filled her up was amazing. They rocked back and forth on her bed. The urgency was palpable. It was as if they were racing against time to reach their climaxes.
Minutes passed, but it seemed like seconds. Neither of them had ever experienced this level of physical pleasure. Soon, they were approaching the point of no return. The thrusting got faster and faster. He threw his head back and started moaning. His penis came out of her vagina right before gobs of semen started shooting onto her stomach. At the same time, Trista had reached her special place. It felt like her nether regions were about to explode. The dam was bursting, and there was no stopping it. Her scream of pleasure almost shattered her windows. They both collapsed in a heap on the bed.
Now, the next morning, she was faced with a naked, but hot man lying on her bed, and she was hungry from the workout she had last night. Her kitchen was pretty bare. Since they fed her at work, she really only kept breakfast food around. Orange juice, coffee, eggs, and other things she liked for breakfast. But suddenly, Trista had a craving for some muffins. Maybe it was because he had stuffed his face with her muffin last night, that she was now craving a muffin for herself. For some reason, despite the fact that she didn’t really keep much food around, she still had baking ingredients: flour, sugar, baking soda, that sort of thing. Baking was something she enjoyed doing, when she wasn’t doing hot men she met at the local club. It relaxed her. Her day job as a nuclear physicist was really stressful.
She mixed together some oil, milk, and eggs. She reached for the flour, but she realized that she was almost out of sugar. Her nightly visits to the club had kept her from the grocery store. But what could she use for sweetness? Muffins had to be sweet. She opened her fridge and saw the orange juice. Oranges? In muffins? She’d never had such a thing. But it was the only source of sugar she had. So she poured some into the batter, hoping for the best.
Her man still hadn’t woken up. Maybe the smell of fresh muffins would do the trick. She stuck her muffin tin in the oven, while she cleaned up the mess they had made on the couch. Clothes strewn everywhere. It was as if a tornado had come through here. She saw his shirt on the couch and picked it up. Instinctively, she stuck her nose into it. He had been sweating in it, but there was still something attractive about that scent. As she was dreaming again about the events of last night, her kitchen timer went off. She ran over to the oven and pulled out the muffins. They were perfectly done. She turned them out onto a cooling rack. She couldn’t wait to try them.
Soon, the man walked into her kitchen, wearing only a pair of boxers. “Good morning,” they both said to each other. Trista realized that she didn’t even know his name. Oh god, had she slept with a guy without knowing his name? Only sluts do that. But she couldn’t be a slut. She was a nuclear physicist, gosh darn it. “Well, I had a great time last night,” said he. “I did too,” Trista responded. They had little to say to each other. He didn’t even look at her muffins cooling on her rack. What kind of robot was he? How could he not notice the warm, delicious smell of fresh baked goods?
He picked up his shirt and pants and quickly got dressed. She walked him to the door. She would have offered him breakfast, but he didn’t seem tempted one bit by the muffins. He silently left. Apparently, he didn’t care that they never knew each other’s names. He was just looking for a quick hookup. And he got it.
Trista went back to the kitchen. Her muffins awaited. She picked one up and bit into it. The orange flavor was noticeable. It added sweetness to the muffin, while also adding an interesting tart flavor. A new recipe! She was so excited. Oranges could go into a lot of her baked goods! She couldn’t wait to tell her coworkers tomorrow. About the muffins, not the one night stand.
OK, so orange baked goods have probably been around way longer than that. But I’m sure it involved some kind of hookup situation with a poorly-stocked kitchen and then an act of desperation for sugar.
I didn’t make orange muffins, but I did try making an orange loaf a couple of weeks ago. I found the recipe here. Basically, it’s an orange-flavored pound cake with orange glaze on top.
Orange Loaf
1/2 cup butter
1 cup white sugar
2 eggs
1 tablespoon grated orange zest
1/2 cup fresh orange juice
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
Beat the butter and sugar together in a bowl, and then add the eggs in, one at a time. Add the orange zest and juice. Then add the flour, baking powder, and salt, and stir it all together until combined. Pour the batter into a 9×5 loaf pan, and bake for 1 hour at 350F, or until a toothpick inserted into the middle comes out clean.
Orange Glaze
1/2 cup orange juice
1/4 cup white sugar
Combine the orange juice and sugar in a saucepan, and heat it up until the sugar dissolves in the orange juice.
When the loaf comes out of the oven, pour the glaze on top while it’s still hot, and then let the loaf cool in the pan for about 10 minutes, before removing it from the pan and cooling it on a rack.
Here’s the batter, all mixed together. I juiced the same oranges I got the orange zest from to get the orange juice, so it was nice and fresh.
Into a loaf pan goes the batter.
After an hour, it’s done. Might be a tad brown…
The glaze. The orange juice is again from actual oranges, so it’s nice and pulpy.
Here’s the orange glaze on top of the hot orange loaf.
Then on the cooling rack after being in the pan for 10 minutes. OK, so it looks pretty much the same, just without a loaf pan around it.
The pulp on top lets you know that this is definitely an orange-flavored cake.
The inside was nice and moist. When I served it the next day at a barbecue, though, it had dried out a bit. Next time, I’ll try making it closer to when I’m serving it. And maybe putting it in an airtight container so that it doesn’t dry out as quickly.