Lemon and Almond Streamliner Cake—A Glimmer of Nostalgia

Lemon and Almond Streamliner Cake

Inspired by April Showers

April showers bring May flowers, and overcast April skies brought me the need to make a fresh, sunny cake. The Lemon and Almond Streamliner Cake fit the bill with its sunshiny lemon custard on top.

Aside from testing out new recipes and techniques from Vintage Cakes by Julie Richardson, I truly enjoy reading and researching the history behind these special confections. In the recipe description for this one, the author pointed out that she couldn’t find the origin of the streamliner cake. She found the recipe in a 1967 publication that gave no history.

The funny thing is, when I searched online, my friend, Google, gave all the credit to Julie Richardson. So, it looks like she owns this little piece of history by resurrecting this cake from an old journal.

Pretty Please With Custard on Top

Some people are daunted by the notion of making homemade pudding or custard. I grew up seeing my mom make both, so I proceeded confidently with the challenge. It’s really not hard. One may think that milk and lemon is a recipe for disaster, but when treated right, they come together beautifully. In this case, the reward was a bright and creamy lemon custard with just the right amount of lemon.

The cake recipe, of course, promised a one-layer pleaser incorporating butter, oil, eggs, and buttermilk, with sifted cake flour keeping it light and delicate. 

Almond Paste for the Win

One thing that truly excites me about the recipes in Vintage Cakes is discovering new (to me) ingredients and techniques. The special element in this cake was surely the almond paste. I’d never used it.

The almond paste I purchased was shelf-stable, packaged in sealed foil inside a small box. It was firm, but not hard, with a fragrant almond aroma. Since it was new to me, I actually tasted a little pinch of it—sweet, grainy, and almondy. You know how almond extract has that cherry-like scent—it’s that.

The almond paste was beaten with the butter until light and fluffy before the remaining ingredients are gently incorporated. Patience and care in following the technique lend to the desired texture.

Sunshine on a Cloudy Day

The author accurately described this cake as a “luscious single-layer buttermilk cake.” I concur with that statement. For me, the cake was reminiscent of spritz cookies that my mom always made at Christmas, but in the form of a moist cake. It was perfectly flavored, with a fine, delicate crumb.

The dreamy lemon custard was the perfect complement to this cake. This girl was “sunshine on a cloudy day,” as The Temptations say. One thing I will say is that I found myself wanting more, yet I was glad we had no leftovers after sharing with friends.

Gathering Glimmers: The Transcend Moment

Sometimes nostalgia appears in strange places at unexpected times. This cake brought that to me. It was like biting into an oversized spritz cookie. I was transported to childhood Christmases of the 1980s: my mom’s kitchen, warm and wrapped in the aroma of baking. 

You know what I mean: when a song, scent, taste, or place whisks you off into the recesses of your mind to snag an old memory or feeling off the shelf. The timing is enigmatic. It can dredge up anything, but bliss ensues when a comforting moment comes forth. Sit with it for a minute, then release it back with a smile and a silent thank you.

Pause and savor these brief breaks in reality as a reminder that magic exists in unexpected ways.

As I grow older—we’ll say wiser—I’m becoming a collector of these little “feel-good glimmers”. I tuck them into my pocket (a.k.a. gratitude journal) to save for a rainy day. Gratitude is powerful.

When the storms appear, gathered gratitude allows us to use the pocket of glimmers to illuminate a path back to clear skies.