Sally Lunn

A few weeks ago, I posted the results of the first recipe I tried from my 1922 Sarnia church cookbook. The recipe was for Burnt Leather Cake, which, fortunately, had no leather. Although it had burnt stuff. This time around, I made something called Sally Lunn. What - or who - is Sally, you ask? Is she a scone? A cake? A 50-year-old large-haired woman who can kick, stretch and kick? I suppose I could’ve googled Sally Lunn, but that felt like cheating. Besides, culinary mysteries help get me out of bed in the mornings. 

Did I mention this cookbook is old? Just look at that cover. I don’t think it’s made from human skin, but you never know. Paper, unlike flesh, was pretty scarce in the olden days. 

Here's an interior shot of some pages. I called Carter Decorating Co., Limited to do some work on my bathroom, but they're no longer in business. WTF?

Anyways, here’s the recipe. 

1 quart flour, 1 tsp salt, 3 tablespoons sugar, 3 tsp baking powder, add two eggs beaten, butter the size of an egg, melted, and a large cup of milk. Stir all ingredients together and bake in well greased round pans. Eat warm with butter. 

One quart of flour is four cups. That seemed like a lot and I was afraid Sally Lunn would be one of those party guests who show up, stay for days and get really, really stale. So I halved the recipe. 

I got screwed up at the “well greased pans” part.  How many pans? I don’t understand why church ladies in 1922 couldn’t be a bit more specific. Didn’t they realize that a gay guy in the 21st century would be making their recipes one day and posting them on the internet? I ended up using a round cake tin (clearly not the right choice) and baked it at 350 degrees for about 35 minutes. 

Sally before heading into the oven.

Sally before heading into the oven.

So how did Sally Lunn taste?

Pretty good, actually. Kind of like a scone from Starbucks but without all the adjectives. But dang if Sally didn’t hit every branch of the ugly tree on her way down. She had the complexion of an asteroid.

There isn't enough Neutrogena in the world.

There isn't enough Neutrogena in the world.

I served Sally with some lavender jam I bought in Prince Edward County last weekend. I have an unhealthy addiction to lavender which pretty much confirms I was a cardigan-wearing, peppermint-sucking, Lawrence Welk-watching old lady in a former life.

For some background on what Sally Lunn is supposed to be, click here

Score: 7.5 Sally O’Malleys out of 10.