Square, oblong, cubed, round, but always nuclear pink.

The lamington, pasta roża, or as Gozitans call it, bambaluna, remains a staple on the Maltese culinary scene. Here’s one food-obsessed author’s recollections of her experiences with this coconutty treat, reminding everyone that indulgence doesn’t need to be limited to a specific season.

 

My first real memories of this exotic dessert date back to when we lived in a mostly mundane part of Msida. I must have been 10 or 11 when the mania took hold. I would get home from school and rush upstairs to put down my rucksack. I would then lie in wait near the balcony like a cat about to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. The second I would hear the horn of the bread van toot, I would peer through the balcony window to ensure it was actually my saviour and not some unsuspecting fishmonger. Then I’d bound down the stairs two or three at a time to get to the delivery boy before he decided to unceremoniously up and leave. I still remember peering into the back of the van as I queued up behind old ladies bent over like question marks, offering up prayers to the heavens that they hadn’t sold out of my favourite after-school snack. If, and when, I managed to procure one, I would slink back upstairs with an enormous Cheshire Cat grin, With a bambaluna in one hand and a mug of tea in the other, every other niggling problem faded away, and all felt right in the world. Some 30 years later, the bread van no longer comes, and my creaking knees definitely won’t be allowing me to take anything riskier than one step at a time, but the feeling when my eyes catch a glimmer of that unnatural pink that exists nowhere else in nature remains exactly the same.

Like many things on our beautifully patchworked island, it is believed that the lamington arrived to our fair shores by sea, specifically, by Maltese migrants coming home from Australia in the 1960s and 1970s. No doubt the colour and the extremely sweet taste appealed to the Maltese palate, and so, once migrants returned to the land of their birth, the Maltese variation was born. When I visited Australia some years ago, the lamington connoisseur in me demanded that I try several of the Australian versions, but I found them significantly drier than what I was used to, and I remained sadly unmoved. That said, though, it is also true that the bambaluna of my childhood, full of a fudgy radioactive pink cream-like substance that made it look like children’s putty, would now probably break several EU food regulations. There were probably enough E numbers in it to complete several alphabets, but that’s probably what made them so, so good. Indeed, so great and renowned was my love for them that my paternal grandmother, who was a dab hand with the whisk, used to make them for me too when I visited her  on weekends. Her recipe was a standard one that she had probably written down once and committed to her incredible memory, but if I close my eyes, I can still taste them. I remember sun-filled afternoons, her booming laughter, which both my father and I inherited, and the tremendous amount of patience she had with every single task she undertook. That woman made every single day feel like a celebration with her warmth and light; she was never not laughing or not cooking.

Nowadays, although dessert trends have changed, lamingtons can still be found in a number of confectioneries, and after asking around recently, it was wonderful to see that many people still have their favourite place to get their pink coconut fix. For the Gozitans, the lamington place to be remains Portelli Confectionery in Sir Adrian Dingli Street in Victoria. I personally cannot recommend anything enough from there; their prices have remained low, but the heart and the passion they put into their various traditional cakes remain bigger than ever. However, if you don’t want to cross to the sister island (and I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t), Ta’ Barbetta in Żejtun has lovely ones, as does Big Bun Bakery and Grocery in Żabbar. If all these are too out of the way for you and your craving is too great to wait, the ubiquitous bakery chain Maypole also sells out of them daily. Although the lamington wasn’t born on our shores, perhaps it melded so well with the Maltese because in many ways it truly represents us as a people: with our brightly coloured, loud exteriors made slightly exotic with coconut, and our surprisingly soft and jammy centres, if ever there was a cake that felt like us, this would definitely be it.

Ingredients

For the Sponge

  • 250 g butter

  • 250 g sugar

  • 4 eggs

  • 200 ml milk

  • 350 g self-raising flour

  • 2 tsp vanilla extract

  • 1/2 tsp salt

For the Pink Coating

  • 200 ml boiling water

  • 1 packet raspberry/strawberry jelly crystals

  • few drops red food colouring optional

  • fine desiccated coconut

 

Instructions

  • Preheat the oven to 180°C or 350°F. Line a square or rectangular tin (I used two 9x9inch square tins) with parchment paper and set aside.

  • In a bowl mix together the self-raising flour and salt.

  • In a mixer or in a large bowl, cream the butter and the sugar together until you get a pale colour.
 Add the eggs to the mixture and mix well.

  • Gently add the flour and the vanilla extract. Mix well until combined.

  • Lastly pour in the milk and mix until it’s incorporated. Don’t over mix the batter.

  • Pour the batter into the tins and tap on the bench to remove any bubbles formed in the mixture.

  • Bake the sponge for about 20 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean.

  • Once baked, let the sponge cool in the tin before transferring to a cooling rack. Let the cake cool completely before starting the next step.

  • In a deep bowl mix together the jelly crystals, boiling water and if desired the food colouring. Mix well and let the mixture cool slightly. I like to put in the fridge for about 15 minutes.

  • As soon as the jelly red mixture is ready, cut the sponge into equal square or rectangles.

  • Slowly dip each piece of sponge into the jelly mixture making sure to coat each side. Afterwards, roll the dipped sponge into the coconut and lay on a tray.

  • Repeat the process until all the pieces are covered in the jelly mixture and coconut. N.B. clean the coconut occasionally as pink chunks of coconut will form as you go along.