These easy cakes need no special ingredients to shine – The Denver Post

By Korsha Wilson, The New York Times

The tea cake rarely gets its flowers. It’s not flashy or trendy. It doesn’t stand out against a display of glistening baked goods, doesn’t hint at its flavor (or any flavor) with its slightly browned, puffed top.

But beneath its humble exterior is a deep history: Tea cakes were born of necessity and ingenuity and have traveled miles and centuries, refined on and perfected by a long line of cooks. They are, in spite of their long journey, an invitation to rest, to stop for a mug of coffee or tea, and connect.

Pinpointing the origin of tea cakes is hard, but those most intimately familiar with its history agree that enslaved people on plantations were responsible for the American iteration, which evolved from browned, yeasted British tea cakes and are closely related to crumbly jumble cookies. This newer version, made without yeast, relies on baking soda or baking powder for lift with the addition of sweeteners like molasses or sugar, and a rich fat like lard or butter.

Once freed, formerly enslaved African Americans took the recipe — along with many others — to their new homes, and made them for their own families. The tea cakes eventually made their way to the North both as part of the Underground Railroad and later during the Great Migration.

A recipe for tea cakes shows up in “The Brooklyn Cookbook,” published in 1991, an overview of the history of the borough’s foods, linking the cakes to Weeksville, a haven for many formerly enslaved and freeborn African Americans in the 1800s. At its peak, in the 1850s, Weeksville was a thriving community of nearly 600 African Americans, with a school, newspaper and church, all run by residents.

“That safe space provided a safe place to dream,” said Raymond Codrington, the president and CEO of Weeksville Heritage Center, which seeks to preserve the neighborhood’s history. “Socially, politically and culturally, you could have radical thought.”

The grounds of the Weeksville Heritage Center now include historically recreated homes, furnished with 19th- and 20th-century wares, pantry goods and mementos, reflecting the time. Visiting them today, it’s easy to imagine tea cakes baking in the small ovens, the dough made out of pantry staples like flour, butter, eggs, sugar and “thick sour cream” as the “Brooklyn Cookbook” recipe calls for. Maybe a cook, looking out the window at the peach or cherry tree in full bloom (which is still on the property), studded the dough with fresh peaches or cherries?

For Jocelyn Delk Adams, the founder of Grandbaby Cakes, tea cakes were a warm embrace welcoming her to her grandmother’s house in Winona, Mississippi, after long drives from Chicago, where Delk Adams lived.

“She would make them whenever people came by,” said Delk Adams, who has developed recipes for New York Times Cooking. Depending on the time of year, her grandmother would even add food coloring or different spices to the base recipe, then use an old tin can to punch rounds from the dough. “She would make them so easily,” Delk Adams said. “It’s like the dough would be done by the time I turned around.”

Simple in taste and easy to make, tea cakes fall texturally somewhere among an unadorned cookie, cake or scone. And just as with many cookies and cakes, the recipe starts with creaming sugar and butter, adding lightly beaten eggs enhanced with vanilla and nutmeg, then sifted flour, salt and baking powder. The dough is rolled out like biscuits, and rounds are punched out with a cookie cutter or top of a Mason jar, then baked off. The aroma of the slightly sweet dough wafts from the oven, filling the room. Seeing a loved one reach for one is gratifying, a testament to the fruits of your (brief) labor.