Those who like nut-based cakes will appreciate this Almond Pistachio Loaf Cake with its zesty lemon aroma. This loaf cake is very delectable! After hastily munching one piece, I found myself dabbing the plate's crumbs with a napkin. It is that incredible! This cake is made with very little white flour and is mostly composed of finely ground almond and pistachio nuts. 
However, you must crush the nuts as finely as possible without transforming them into nut butter. If you have a little food processor, you can just process the nuts in small batches.
Lemon-flavored Almond-Pistachio Loaf Cake
As this delicious loaf cools, it is liberally sprinkled with lemon syrup while still warm. The cake absorbs all the sweet liquids, resulting in an exceptionally moist, damp-like feel. The cake is so moist and fragile that you must be careful while removing it from the pan. I highly advise greasing the pan before lining it with parchment paper, ensuring that the paper reaches a few inches over the rim. This will enable you to easily remove the cake from the pan. Believe me, I've learned this the hard way! I did not line my pan, so when I inverted it to remove the cake, only half of it came out. The remainder, to my horror, remained inside! I regarded it with dismay and pondered what to do! I feared that I would have to re-bake the dish to get photographs of acceptable quality. However, since the cake was so moist, I was able to put it back together without anybody noticing. But you all now know...lol! As seen by the image below, it is impossible to discern! I did not line my pan, so when I inverted it to remove the cake, only half of it came out. The remainder, to my horror, remained inside! I regarded it with dismay and pondered what to do! I feared that I would have to re-bake the dish to get photographs of acceptable quality. 
However, since the cake was so moist, I was able to put it back together without anybody noticing. But you all now know...lol! As seen by the image above, it is impossible to discern! How to Adorn a Bread Loaf I served the bread with sliced Greek black figs, even though the pistachios made it visually appealing on its own. I purchased them at the market and used them to garnish the bread for a dessert that stole the show. Only for you! If you do not like figs, you may simply substitute candied lemon slices for the figs. Or just appreciate it as is! This dish is based on Liz Franklin's superb Cafe Italia cookbook. A must-have addition to your collection of cookbooks!
Orange And Pistachio Cake
This dessert was made with love. Do you ever genuinely feel that something will be wonderful, yet every effort you make at it falls short? That was this Orange Pistachio Cake for me. I baked this cake for my birthday last year because I couldn't stop thinking about orange, pistachio, and honey. It came out OK, but of course, I messed up the proportions such that there was much too much butter on the cake. It was OK, but the cake was too soft and barely held together. Sure, it was juicy and had a taste, but it wasn't quite perfect yet. Add to it the fact that I threw up an Earl Grey and Honey Buttercream in the American way, and the cake was overly sweet. I thus attempted it again. I fiddled with the ratios until I believed I had gotten it right... Nope. 
There was too much sugar and not enough butter, and I became sidetracked while the cakes were baking, resulting in cakes that were overbaked and completely dry after 20 minutes. I cannot deny that I was embarrassed by the sound my fork produced as I tapped it! Despite the awful bake, the taste remained, and it was something I knew I had done well. I tweaked the recipe by adding eggs, and butter, eliminating the butter and replacing it with oil, lowering the sugar, increasing the quantity of orange zest, and altering the coarseness of the pistachios until I eventually achieved success. This cake is just what I was imagining: soft but cohesive, delicious, lemony, and nutty. Because it is oil-based, it will keep its wetness and not dry out overnight if you prepare the layers a day in advance and cover them in plastic wrap. In addition, it's made using the reverse creaming method, which entails combining the dry ingredients, adding the oil and a small amount of milk to coat the dry ingredients, and then adding the rest of the milk and eggs in thirds until the batter comes together; the entire process only requires one bowl (if you have a stand mixer, just throw everything into that bowl!) together with a measuring cup. Once I perfected the cake, I realized I had to perfect the buttercream, and I knew I wanted a Swiss meringue. The brilliance of a Swiss meringue buttercream lies in the fact that it is smooth and covers cakes so elegantly, but more importantly, it is not too sugary that it destroys the cake. It has a subtle sweetness that conveys the honey and Earl Grey notes without overpowering them, enhancing rather than detracting from the cake. 
And I knew that for the Earl Grey taste to stand out, I couldn't just add a couple of teaspoons of tea to the mixing bowl. No, I had to flavor the butter. It's almost unbelievable how effectively it works, but steeping the tea leaves in the butter and then straining them through a fine sieve helps to truly infuse this frosting with the taste of tea. Once this Earl Grey and Honey Swiss Meringue Buttercream were ready I'm not the type of girl to eat frosting by the spoonful because it's way too sweet I usually take it off my cake but I was ready to start spooning this stuff!, the cake came together exactly as I had envisioned, and I knew that I had been so determined to make and perfect it for a reason. It only goes to show that things may not always work out exactly on the first attempt, but after analyzing what worked well and what has to be modified, you may finally get the desired outcome. It only takes time, perseverance, and a great deal of faith that the result will be worthwhile!
LIME AND PISTACHIO CAKE
Three layers of Pistachio and Lime Cake are separated by a lime buttercream and topped with summer berries. A lovely, "semi-naked" summer party cake. PISTACHIO-AND-LEMON-FILLED CAKE WITH SUMMER BERRIES You may have already figured that I like pistachios. I believe that they are a wonderful addition to cakes and baked goods, transforming an otherwise very basic cake into something rather spectacular. 
At Easter, I baked a Pistachio and Lemon Cake with Crystallized Flowers for decoration. Because these flavors worked so well together, I wanted to construct a cake with a variant on them. This time, I've used fewer pistachios and not as finely chopped them. The outcome is a lighter texture with delectable nutty pieces, and it can be prepared without the use of a food processor. I like buttercream since it is so simple to prepare, and the addition of lime juice gives it a citrusy flavor that fits this cake. Although I like it, it's easy to consume too much. Therefore, I only used approximately two-thirds of it to sandwich the cakes together. The remainder was then placed in a thin layer on top and an even thinner coating around the cake's perimeter to give it a trendy, semi-naked appearance. Therefore, the cake layers are still visible through the outside icing. If you are feeling very generous, you might add a layer of summer fruit jam between the layers to enhance the berry flavor of the cake. Alternatively, lime curd would be a delicious addition. This recipe for lime curd may be found on my other website, Only Crumbs Remain if you want to make it yourself. I believe that summer berries pair so beautifully with lime, which is why I topped this cake with berries to give it a nice summery flavor. They also seem attractive. Now that the summer berry crop from the allotment is winding down, I used a combination of allotment raspberries, market strawberries, and market blueberries. To finish the decorating, I sprinkled a few more whole pistachio nuts on top. 
A thin coating of confectioners' sugar completes the cake. Now all that is left to do is to enjoy yourself. It is delightful as a special treat with afternoon tea and also pairs nicely with a bottle of sparkling wine, making it an ideal summer celebration cake. Go ahead, indulge yourself. Twenty minutes south of Marrakech's Place Djemaa el Fna, beyond the abandoned swimming pool with its rose-bedecked walls and where, incidentally, I was once robbed at knifepoint, is an ancient olive grove. A hidden spot. There was a lot of serenity and shade there, and none of the ceaseless squabbling of the hashish lads. Several years ago, I spent every day here for three weeks, sheltering from the sweltering heat of Morocco by shelling bag after bag of pistachios under the olive trees. This is not a nut for cracking with nutcrackers and munching by the handful, but rather a nut with a shell so tight that it can only be opened with fingernails. A couple of Saturdays ago, on the first day warm enough to sit in the garden, I sat on the back steps with a drink and a bag of salty, white-shelled pistachios from Iran; they were the fattest and juiciest I've ever tasted. These little nuts seem to go hand-in-hand with the sun, lengthy cool beverages, and ashtrays filled with their hard oval shells. Of course, the rose-skinned nuts may shred your nails, but removing them from their shells is half of the enjoyment. Anyone who has ever purchased a bag of pre-shelled pistachios will attest to how much of this nut's enchantment is lost. The pistachios I knew as a youngster were not pistachios at all, but rather colored almonds sliced as finely as tea leaves and sprinkled over the trifles we took home from the bakery on Saturdays. 
The first time I saw a genuine one in its shell was on a package vacation to Greece, and ever since then, I have linked them with the sun. Unlike our native nuts, the hazel and the corn cob, the pistachio requires hot, dry, and poor soil to flourish. I like not having to locate the nutcrackers for a change. The little nuts are constantly accessible, waiting anxiously for someone to insert their thumb and pry open the shells. They get this way, not because of a cottage enterprise that partially cracks each nut before exporting it one person genuinely thought this for years, but because they are left in the shade to dry, at which point their pinky skin peels off and their shell splits apart. A tiny miracle. Those who have ever attempted to open a firmly closed pistachio with a pair of nutcrackers will know that it doesn't work. They must have been urgently at the end of their bag but not their beer. The nut is shattered. Although I sometimes add them to rice pilaf or use them to garnish a trifle, pistachios are often associated with Middle Eastern sweets. The Turkish stores in the vicinity of Newington Green in northeast London serve filo pastries packed with ground nuts and drizzled with honey syrup. They are sliced from tarnished tin pans, and you eat them with your sticky fingers off a paper plate. Pistachios sometimes appear in French charcuterie, but they're more at home in pastries and syrups flavored with rose water and orange blossom. 
Here, they are at their most refined and should be consumed with a glass of mint tea or a little, startlingly powerful and murky coffee. I sometimes spend languid afternoons in Paris in the hammam in the mosque behind the Jardin des Plantes and then sneak into its tea rooms. Freshly exfoliated and without a layer of skin, I compensate with mint tea and cookies. The pistachio is the most attractive nut, with its beige exterior tinged with purple and its vivid green flesh peeking forth. If the nut is eaten directly from its shell, the skin is completely edible, but if the nuts are to be used in baked goods or ice cream, I believe it is worthwhile to peel them. The skin fragments might get lodged in the teeth. This does not truly apply to the nuts consumed during the pistachio ceremony. And it is a ritual: cold beer is served, the shells are pried open, the nut is extracted, and the shells are tossed in a chaotic heap. Am I the only one who sometimes licks the salt off empty shells? As with any nut, you must purchase them from a location with a high turnover rate. Look for pistachios that are packaged neatly. Old, dusty bags with a great deal of loose skin at the bottom are likely to dry and perhaps rotten. This nut is not worth keeping. I often visit a store in west London that has them in every conceivable form, from white-shelled and unsalted to peeled and chopped. 
In India, I've seen pistachio brittle flavored with cardamom, with the nuts immersed in caramel and sprinkled with saffron. I return with as much as I can carry. Pistachio ice cream is also worth trying, despite being quite difficult to locate. Italians and Lebanese produce it, and it is sometimes available in Middle Eastern stores. It pairs well with any kind of chocolate. Rowley Leigh of the Kensington Place Restaurant in Notting Hill, London, sometimes adds a tablespoon to his hot chocolate soufflé. Find your pistachio ice cream first, or your olive orchard for that matter.
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