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Sunday 17 October 2010

Blueberry-Lemon Pound Cake


Ingredients

  • 2 cups butter, softened
  • 3 cups white sugar
  • 1 cup milk, room temperature
  • 6 eggs
  • 2 teaspoons lemon extract
  • 1 tablespoon baking powder
  • 4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
  • 1 teaspoon grated lemon zest
  • 2 cups fresh blueberries

Directions

  1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Grease and flour a 10 inch Bundt pan.
  2. In a large bowl, cream together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs one at a time, then stir in the lemon extract. Combine the flour, baking powder, and lemon zest; stir into the batter alternating with the milk. I like to use a spatula and stir by hand, mixing just until blended so the batter is not over mixed. Be sure to scrape the bottom and sides of the bowl often. Fold in the blueberries. Spoon the batter into the prepared pan.
  3. Bake for 1 hour in the preheated oven, or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Let cool in the pan for at least 10 minutes, then invert onto a wire rack to cool completely.


Amount Per Serving  Calories: 509 | Total Fat: 25.5g | Cholesterol: 142mg

16 comments:

  1. that looks so good i don't even wanna eat it, i wanna have sex with it.

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  2. 509 calories per serving? Not sure if want. Still, it sounds delicious.

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  3. i'm drooling over this! will definitely make this when i have the chance!

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  4. lol my mother actually made this a few days ago just without the blueberries and the white thing over it :)

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  5. ohh yeee :)) that's look is very DELICIUSSSSSS

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  6. Damn, you now made me hungry and now I have to either make this or go find some food. :D

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  7. great post, I will make this tonight.

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  8. add some herbage to that butter and you've got an AMAZING treat...

    Miss Dro Cooking With Cannabis
    http://missdro.blogspot.com/

    ReplyDelete
  9. This looks so tasty, I think I'll try this tonight. Thanks for the post!

    ReplyDelete
  10. deliciousNnutritious... yet, what's even moe ultra-mindboggling-tasty is food you'd gitta Uppastares, mama mia. If this doesn't gettchu off-yer-rrrockr, brudda, dunno what will. Join me, follow us, wiseabove...

    What's your address in Heaven, dear? Dunno? Mine's 111 Rock-Solid-Ave, Milky Weight, Seventh-Heaven. My sub/dude, neon mansion? Mama mia. A grandiose, exquisitely detailed, 3-acre-stuccoish home in a cul-de-sac with mountain-bike-trails we may conform with our thots. Why limit Almighty God? Why not fire-ALL-cylinders in one-fell-swoop? My intimacy with women Upstairs? Subtle, stupendous, fire-engine-zeal: skiing, surfin, sailing, snorklin, smmmokin, savvy, sassy space travel -to- scarlet symmetry! elegant ostentation! potent intoxication! technecolor satire to snuggle and serve: slow, soft, supersonic Sunday School which is an eXcellent, eXcessive eXaggeration of our lives woven together that's push-button, point-blank improv; a plethora of high-degree, Newtonian-laws-of-major league, victory laps where one force of kick-ass, party-hardy, white-water-rawness equals every, single, evening with wild knights, phorNphood, avatars, tender faeries, cereal killers and symbiotic, front-row-seats (subject to unofficial rules). Yes, of course! Baby making is most certaintly an option! ...yet, I gotta wanna see how She feels sharing me. My many planets? Gorgeous girls? Gott'm. Gotta lotta'm. Gotta gobba IQ, too, withe K2 orchestra only accessable to those with adolescent behavior: TOTALLY YOURS!!! How??? Gotta accept Jesus, missy!! Gotta. Wanna. Or you're sooo out-of-order, toots. Therefore, let's accelerate to the Maximum POW!er; let U.S. 'populate' the universe with i2i loyalty to the Bright Son. Wanna join me in God's wild Kingdome?? Chop, chop, dear. Time's running-out for us in this wee, existence finite PS: Time, as an entity, is also mortal: while thar aint no time in Seventh-Heaven, dollface... yet, puh-lenty of time to love due to the superior-supply-of-summer...

    ...cuzz the only other realm aint too cool: sweltering, cramped and Fugly rotten; Pokemon sawing-off your cranium with a chainsaw; nasty darkness, eternal starvation, Satan lies like a Persian rug; o'er-the-Hillary profusely cakkkling for eternity, no purchase necessary. How purrrecious! sez Gollum. 'Nuff sed. Decide NOW. Make Your Choice -SAW.

    MyCrucifixIsMyFix.blogspot.com
    trustNjesus

    ReplyDelete
  11. deliciousNnutritious... yet, what's even moe ultra-mindboggling-tasty is food you'd gitta Uppastares, mama mia. If this doesn't gettchu off-yer-rrrockr, brudda, dunno what will. Join me, follow us, wiseabove...

    What's your address in Heaven, dear? Dunno? Mine's 111 Rock-Solid-Ave, Milky Weight, Seventh-Heaven. My sub/dude, neon mansion? Mama mia. A grandiose, exquisitely detailed, 3-acre-stuccoish home in a cul-de-sac with mountain-bike-trails we may conform with our thots. Why limit Almighty God? Why not fire-ALL-cylinders in one-fell-swoop? My intimacy with women Upstairs? Subtle, stupendous, fire-engine-zeal: skiing, surfin, sailing, snorklin, smmmokin, savvy, sassy space travel -to- scarlet symmetry! elegant ostentation! potent intoxication! technecolor satire to snuggle and serve: slow, soft, supersonic Sunday School which is an eXcellent, eXcessive eXaggeration of our lives woven together that's push-button, point-blank improv; a plethora of high-degree, Newtonian-laws-of-major league, victory laps where one force of kick-ass, party-hardy, white-water-rawness equals every, single, evening with wild knights, phorNphood, avatars, tender faeries, cereal killers and symbiotic, front-row-seats (subject to unofficial rules). Yes, of course! Baby making is most certaintly an option! ...yet, I gotta wanna see how She feels sharing me. My many planets? Gorgeous girls? Gott'm. Gotta lotta'm. Gotta gobba IQ, too, withe K2 orchestra only accessable to those with adolescent behavior: TOTALLY YOURS!!! How??? Gotta accept Jesus, missy!! Gotta. Wanna. Or you're sooo out-of-order, toots. Therefore, let's accelerate to the Maximum POW!er; let U.S. 'populate' the universe with i2i loyalty to the Bright Son. Wanna join me in God's wild Kingdome?? Chop, chop, dear. Time's running-out for us in this wee, existence finite PS: Time, as an entity, is also mortal: while thar aint no time in Seventh-Heaven, dollface... yet, puh-lenty of time to love due to the superior-supply-of-summer...

    ...cuzz the only other realm aint too cool: sweltering, cramped and Fugly rotten; Pokemon sawing-off your cranium with a chainsaw; nasty darkness, eternal starvation, Satan lies like a Persian rug; o'er-the-Hillary profusely cakkkling for eternity, no purchase necessary. How purrrecious! sez Gollum. 'Nuff sed. Decide NOW. Make Your Choice -SAW.

    MyCrucifixIsMyFix.blogspot.com
    trustNjesus

    ReplyDelete