May 24 was Queen Victoria’s birthday, later celebrated as Empire Day. To mark the occasion I’ve been looking for Victoria Sponge recipes in my nineteenth century cookbooks – to no avail. Perhaps, like many other traditions, it is not so traditional at all – at least not for its claimed origins. Isabella Beeton (Book of Household Management 1861) gives a recipe for Victoria Sandwiches which gets us half-way there – two layers of sponge cake with “any kind of jam or marmalade” sandwiched between. Beeton suggested the filled cake be cut into long finger-pieces and piled in crossbars on a glass dish to serve. It is popularly said that the Queen enjoyed these when she hosted afternoon teas in an effort to re-engage in social occasions after her beloved Albert died, but Albert was still alive when Isabella published her tome.
Mode.—Beat the butter to a cream; dredge in the flour and pounded sugar; stir these ingredients well together, and add the eggs, which should be previously thoroughly whisked. When the mixture has been well beaten for about 10 minutes, butter a Yorkshire-pudding tin, pour in the batter, and bake it in a moderate oven for 20 minutes. Let it cool, spread one half of the cake with a layer of nice preserve, place over it the other half of the cake, press the pieces slightly together, and then cut it into long finger-pieces; pile them in crossbars on a glass dish, and serve.
There are various other recipes crowned with Victoria’s name – Victoria buns, Victoria cake, Victoria Pudding, but none that include the “classic” strawberry jam and cream that I associate with a classic celebratory sponge. So why has the jam and cream become synonymous with Victoria (and by default, England)? Well here’s my theory: think of the emblem colours of St George, patron saint of England – red and white; the north-south/east-west cross emblazoned on the Union Jack. A very light textured pale coloured cake filled with jam complements the red & white theme quite nicely… But then think about Devonshire Tea – scones with cream and jam (invariably raspberry or strawberry) and quintessentially English strawberries with cream at Wimbledon. Apart from calories and creamy deliciousness, whipped cream enhanced the contrasting red and white of England in a Victoria Sandwich – so very patriotic, and so very, very English.
An artfully timeless recipe
Mrs Beeton’s 1861 recipe needs no modern redaction, its ratios artfully timeless – no trouble with imperial-to-metric conversions. It is in fact a classic pound cake rather than the butter-free sponge my wonderful Tasmanian ‘granny’ Olwen Milbourne whips up for special occasions (beating the eggs for no less than 12 minutes in the mix-master and a whisper of cornflour to ensure it’s lightness). The key to a good sponge is creaming the butter until very pale, lightly adding sifted flour (Beeton says dredging) and whisking the eggs through very well. Today we have the advantage of pre-pounded ‘caster’ sugar and electric beaters to save our wrists and elbows from the pain of ten minutes beating, though for authenticity’s sake you might like to try the traditional method (?). The Yorkshire-pudding tin produces a square edged, rectangular cake, suitable for cutting into dainty fingers.
The earliest recipe proclaimed ‘Victoria Sponge’ I can find on my bookcase is in an Australian text – Mrs Maclurcan’s Cookery Book (1905 edition but probably in earlier ones) requiring ‘a piece of butter the size of a walnut’ to 3 eggs & 3 tablespoons each flour and sugar, with a jam filling, but no cream. Perhaps you have another version? I’m intrigued to find when the cream crept in – to see how my theory stacks up against ‘tradition’? Or is it a fusion of the Wimbledon fresh strawberries and cream and the classic sponge cake?
Happy birthday Queen Vic!