Presenting the Winter Brack, a star in the cookbook “Bake” that pays tribute to the skilled women bakers of Ireland. This delightful treat is a symphony of fruit, cozy spices, almonds, and a touch of orange.

So, Twelfth Night in Ireland is basically an excuse for the ladies to throw a post-Christmas bash. Forget the wise men and their gifts – this is all about soaking up the last bit of holiday cheer. And what’s a party without cake? They make not one, not two, but three Christmas cakes because, you know, one is just not enough. The third one even has charms baked in – find a bean or a pea, and congrats, you’re the king or queen for the night. But fear not, if you’re not into the whole royalty thing, there’s always a fruit cake tucked away somewhere in every Irish household, ready to be served with a side of butter and freshly brewed tea. Because, as we all know, tea bracks are the light version of the almighty Christmas cake. Happy munching, Irish style!

Step 1: Begin your epic cake journey by creating a fruit-soaking symphony – sultanas, mixed peel, figs, cranberries, cherries, and tea mingle together in a bowl overnight. Because, you know, fruit needs a good party before the bake.

Step 2: Preheat the oven to a scorching 180C/350F, like you’re about to summon the dessert gods. Don’t forget to give your 900g (2lb) loaf tin a proper red carpet treatment with non-stick baking paper.

Step 3: Time to assemble the cake Avengers! Throw in sugar, almonds, egg, orange zest, mixed spice (the spice blend with more identities than a secret agent), cinnamon, and vanilla. Mix like it’s a dance party. Gently toss in the flour, being cautious not to crush the fruit – because crushed fruit is so last season. Transfer this magical concoction into your tin.

Step 4: Brace yourself for the grand finale in the oven for 60–65 minutes. Insert a skewer like you’re performing a cake biopsy – it’s done when it comes out clean. Let it cool in the tin, but not before you’ve turned it out, sprinkled on more almonds, and performed the ceremonial cake slicing. Voila! You’re now a sarcastic pastry chef extraordinaire.