The only thing I knew about poppy seeds was that eating too many of them can make you test positive for opiates. Despite the lack of drug tests in my life, that caused me to steer clear of eating anything with poppy seeds in it. Why eat poppy when I can eat other seeds like sesame?
But there must be a reason that people put poppy seeds into pastry, I thought. So I decided to make a lemon-poppy pound cake from Joanne Chang’s Flour cookbook, since the pictures looked delicious.
How on earth would one think to pour poppy seeds into a pound cake batter, though? Hmm…
“Must love dogs,” started the ad that Jennifer put in the newspaper. She knew it was cheesy and completely desperate to put an ad in a newspaper, but she figured she had nothing to lose but the cost of listing the ad. She was tired of coming home to an empty apartment, sipping her wine alone while she watched a sad movie on the couch with nobody to cuddle with. Here she was, an intelligent, attractive, successful woman, still single despite many attempts to become otherwise.
After she submitted it, though, panic started to creep in. Did she seem too desperate? Did she come across as too elitist? Jennifer’s friends always said she was too choosy. Beggars can’t be choosers. But she was too young to be a beggar, right? Scanning over her ad again, she thought maybe her list was a bit too long.
Must love dogs. Also: must be non-smoker, intelligent, ambitious. Would prefer someone who can cook and enjoys reading. Also pluses: owns a dog, owns a home, athletic.
What are the chances that this smart, literary, dog-owning, athletic homeowner would respond to her ad? No way a man that perfect wouldn’t already be taken. But maybe she could pick up some hot young thing on the rebound. Her mouth watered slightly at the thought.
When Jennifer’s phone rang the next day, she did not recognize the number. Was it some telemarketer? The pharmacy calling her that her prescription was ready? She was in a hopeful mood, so she picked it up. “Hello?”
“Hello? Is this Jennifer, from the newspaper?” a male voice she didn’t recognize asked. Her heart skipped a beat. Was she really getting a response to her ad?
“Yes, this is Jennifer. Who’s this?”
“My name is Mike. I was really impressed by how direct you were in your ad. I think I do meet all of your criteria, and I would love to meet you in person. What do you say?”
Jennifer was flustered. Within a minute of first talking to him, he had already asked her out on a date. But his voice seemed so kind, so genuine.
Apparently, Mike could sense the hesitation from Jennifer. “We could meet in a coffee place or something during the day? A nice public place, anywhere you want.”
She was feeling better already. A public place, a feeling of security. She set a date for the next day, in the afternoon.
Jennifer put on a teal dress, slightly dressy but not enough to make it seem like she was trying too hard. She took a seat near the window, where just the right number of rays of sunshine danced onto the table. The small black coffee she got sat in front of her, awaiting the cream and sugar she was going to pour in. Just as she poured a trickle of cream into the black pit of liquid, a handsome man showed up at her table.
“Jennifer?” asked the man, standing as tall as his voice made him seem on the phone.
“Yes,” she said shyly, as she motioned for him to sit down across from her. She noticed he was wearing a nice shirt that showed a hint of the muscled chest underneath. And those eyes, they could light up a giant ballroom on the Titanic.
Conversation flowed like water from a broken dam. Three cups of coffee later, they were practically finishing each other’s sentences. Without even thinking about it, Jennifer invited Mike to her apartment nearby. She was such a good girl. And now, here she was, inviting this stranger up to her apartment after half a liter of coffee and a couple of hours of exchanging life stories.
Her apartment was immaculate, her kitchen as beautiful as a model kitchen in a magazine. She had earlier set some butter on the counter to soften, as she wanted to make a pound cake later that night. As soon as the door to her apartment closed behind her, though, all thoughts of the butter disappeared, and they leapt at each other like feral cats fighting over a scrap of fatty tuna.
Mike quickly slid Jennifer’s shoulder straps off to the sides, and her dress came off like a wrapper off a candy bar. This is it, she thought. Good Jennifer is gone, hedonistic Jennifer is here to stay.
With that thought, she reached over to Mike’s shirt and ripped open the buttons, revealing a nicely chiseled chest. She ran her hands over it as if it were a kitchen counter, and then quickly tore off his shirt. She lunged for his belt buckle, deftly unbuckling it in one motion, and whipped it out of the belt loops like a child spinning a top. His jeans fell off immediately, revealing his boxers with a large tent underneath.
He quickly returned the favor, undoing Jennifer’s bra with one hand, as he had done dozens of times before. Her panties slid off, slightly damp from the moisture developing. His fingers plunged into her vagina with an urgency like he had lost something in there. She moaned, his fingers reaching corners of her vagina that had not been touched in quite some time.
There was only one barrier between their genitals, his boxers, and Jennifer eagerly removed them, revealing a throbbing erection that she desperately wanted inside of her. Right as she plunged her tongue straight into his mouth, she also plunged his penis deep inside of her, causing them both to moan involuntarily and simultaneously. She thrust her hips up and down, feeling the warmth of his member inside of her.
The pace of their thrusting quickened, as did their heartbeats. Sweat dripped from both of their bodies, the moaning creating a gradual crescendo. The time had come for both of them. He let loose a torrent of semen into her vagina, just as she started convulsing from her own orgasm. As she threw her head back in utmost delight, the room got hazy, and Jennifer’s eyes focused on a small bag of poppy seeds on the edge of the counter. The waves of pleasure overcame her, and she was drowning in a sea of orgasmic ecstasy. They collapsed onto the floor, chests heaving up and down.
Jennifer and Mike sat awkwardly on the floor, naked and silent. Now that they had explored each other’s bodies, it was as if they had nothing left to say to each other. To break the silence, Mike suddenly mentioned that he had an appointment, and he put his clothes back on and hurried toward the door. They awkwardly kissed before parting ways, knowing that the passion they just shared was the most they would ever have with each other.
She turned back to her kitchen, and she couldn’t get the poppy seeds that caught her eye while climaxing out of her mind. She had to do something with those. But what? The pound cake! She decided she would mix the poppy seeds into the pound cake batter. A generous helping of them, so that the final cake would be speckled with poppy seeds throughout.
The pound cake came out beautifully, the nutty poppy seeds visible in every bite. She thought back to her encounter with Mike again, longing wistfully for the heights of pleasure she was able to achieve with that man. Now, all she had to remember him was this pound cake that was inspired by their hot encounter.
Well, maybe it wasn’t quite that exciting. But here’s the recipe.
Lemon-Poppy Pound Cake
from Flour
2 cups cake flour
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspooon salt
1/2 cup plus 3 tablespoons butter, melted and cooled
1/4 cup heavy cream
3 tablespoons lemon zest
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
3 tablespoons poppy seeds
4 eggs
1 1/4 cups sugar
Lemon Glaze
1/2 cup confectioners’ sugar
1~2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
- Preheat oven to 350F.
- Butter and flour a 9×5-inch loaf pan.
- Sift together the cake flour, baking powder, and salt, and set aside.
- Whisk the melted butter, heavy cream, lemon zest, lemon juice, and poppy seeds together in a bowl until it becomes a thick liquid.
- Beat the eggs and sugar together until light and fluffy.
- Fold the flour mixture into the egg mixture with a rubber spatula until just combined.
- Fold a quarter of the egg and flour mixture into the butter and cream mixture.
- Fold in the remainder of the egg and flour mixture into the butter and cream mixture until combined.
- Pour the batter into the loaf pan.
- Bake for 60~70 minutes, or until the pound cake is golden brown and a toothpick comes out clean.
- Let cool in the pan for at least 30 minutes.
- Make the glaze by whisking the confectioners’ sugar with enough lemon juice to make a smooth glaze.
- After the cake has cooled, spread the glaze over the top.
The eggs and sugar, beaten until thick. I think the recipe actually called for beating it some more, but I got impatient.
And then with everything else, including the lemon juice and poppy seeds that give this pound cake its name.
And then the batter goes into the loaf pan.
After 60 minutes. It looks kind of burnt, even though I stayed on the lower end of the range given in the recipe.
Thankfully, I was able to remove it from the pan without it falling apart.
The lemon glaze.
The glaze poured on top of the pound cake.
The cake did not rise that much, and it was a bit dry. I probably overbaked it a bit, and it didn’t help that I used whole milk instead of heavy cream. Next time, I’ll actually follow the recipe and check on it earlier.
The flavors in the cake were good, but my execution was flawed. But poppy seeds are actually good!