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Created by Chef Remy
A sticky, warmly spiced cake drenched in pure Louisiana cane syrup, the kind of honest dessert that sustained sugarcane farmers through long harvest days and now graces holiday tables across Acadiana.
Cane syrup is the soul of Louisiana. Before refined sugar became cheap, before corn syrup took over America's pantries, there was this: thick, dark amber liquid pressed from sugarcane stalks and boiled down in open kettles. My grandmother Evangeline kept a tin of Steen's in her pantry like most folks keep salt. She put it on everything. Biscuits, cornbread, sweet potatoes. And when she wanted dessert without fuss, she made gateau sirop.
This cake tells the story of Cajun resourcefulness. Farm families in the cane fields had syrup in abundance, eggs from the henhouse, butter from the dairy, and spices traded up from New Orleans. You mix it all together, bake it in a cast iron skillet or a worn cake pan, and you have something that tastes like the holidays even on an ordinary Tuesday. The syrup keeps the crumb impossibly moist for days.
At Lagniappe, we serve slices of gateau sirop warm with a drizzle of fresh cane syrup and a cloud of bourbon whipped cream. Folks who grew up in Acadiana get misty-eyed. Folks who didn't understand immediately why we guard these traditions so fiercely. This is comfort in its purest form: dark, sticky, fragrant with ginger and cinnamon, and absolutely impossible to eat just one piece of.
Quantity
2 1/2 cups (310g)
Quantity
1 1/2 teaspoons
Quantity
2 teaspoons
Quantity
1 1/2 teaspoons
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
1/4 teaspoon
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
1 cup (240ml)
Quantity
1/2 cup (1 stick/113g)
Quantity
1 cup (200g)
Quantity
2
at room temperature
Quantity
1 cup (240ml)
Quantity
1 cup (120g)
Quantity
for greasing pan
Quantity
for serving
Quantity
for serving
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| all-purpose flour | 2 1/2 cups (310g) |
| baking soda | 1 1/2 teaspoons |
| ground ginger | 2 teaspoons |
| ground cinnamon | 1 1/2 teaspoons |
| ground nutmeg | 1/2 teaspoon |
| ground cloves | 1/4 teaspoon |
| fine sea salt | 1/2 teaspoon |
| pure Louisiana cane syrup | 1 cup (240ml) |
| unsalted butter | 1/2 cup (1 stick/113g) |
| granulated sugar | 1 cup (200g) |
| large eggsat room temperature | 2 |
| hot water | 1 cup (240ml) |
| chopped pecans (optional) | 1 cup (120g) |
| softened butter | for greasing pan |
| additional cane syrup | for serving |
| bourbon whipped cream (optional) | for serving |
Preheat your oven to 350F. Grease a 9x13-inch baking pan or a 10-inch cast iron skillet generously with softened butter. If using cast iron (which I prefer because it gives the edges that beautiful caramelized crust), make sure you get butter into every corner. Set aside while you build the batter.
Whisk together the flour, baking soda, ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and salt in a large bowl. Take a moment to smell this mixture. That warm, spicy fragrance is what makes gateau sirop taste like the holidays. The spice ratios here lean heavy on ginger because that's the bayou way. It should smell assertive, almost peppery.
Combine the cane syrup and butter in a medium saucepan over medium-low heat. Stir occasionally until the butter melts completely and the mixture is smooth and warmed through. You're not trying to cook it, just marry the two together. The syrup should feel warm to the touch, not hot. This gentle warming makes the syrup flow better and helps it incorporate smoothly into the batter.
Pour the warmed syrup mixture into a large mixing bowl. Add the sugar and beat with a wooden spoon or whisk until the sugar dissolves. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each. The mixture will become glossy and lighter in color, almost like caramel. Taste it if you want. Nobody will judge you.
Add the flour mixture to the wet ingredients in three additions, stirring after each until just combined. The batter will be thick and fragrant. Now add the hot water all at once and stir until smooth. The batter will thin out considerably. This is correct. Don't panic. That hot water activates the baking soda and gives the cake its characteristic tender crumb.
If using pecans, fold them into the batter now. Pour the batter into your prepared pan. It will seem very thin, almost like you made a mistake. Trust the process. The batter should come about two-thirds up the sides of your pan, giving the cake room to rise.
Slide the pan into your preheated oven and bake for 45 to 50 minutes. The cake is done when a toothpick inserted in the center comes out with just a few moist crumbs clinging to it. The top will be deeply golden and slightly cracked, the edges pulled away from the pan. The house will smell like Christmas morning in Acadiana.
Let the cake cool in the pan for at least 20 minutes before serving. Some folks serve it warm from the skillet, others prefer it at room temperature. Either way, drizzle each slice with more cane syrup right before serving. The syrup will pool around the edges like a sweet amber moat. Add a generous dollop of bourbon whipped cream if you're feeling fancy, though my grandmother would tell you the cake needs nothing but itself.
1 serving (about 100g)
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