A pinch of pepper to wake up your cakes

Occasionally, I'll stumble upon some ingredient or technique that makes me completely re-evaluate my approach to baking. At one point it was sourdoughs; before that, coriander seeds – roasted or ground, and added to everything from cob loaves to chocolate cakes.
Black pepper is my most recent epiphany. Of course, I was well used to adding it to my savoury cooking – a few peppercorns in a milky sauce or the peppermill in its regular spot at the heart of the dinner table – but using it in sweets was a novel experience.
Although it's used predominantly in savoury cooking, there's a great deal to be said for using black pepper as an accent or to emphasise other flavours in cakes, puddings and biscuits. The sharpness and fiery heat of a fleck of coarsely ground black pepper is enough to jolt even the richest bakes into life – particularly against a mellow backdrop of vanilla or cream.
Black pepper is a good partner for more robust flavours, too, as in the lemon drizzle cake below. There's no point muddying a good cake with the grey tinge of the ready-ground stuff, though: always grind it fresh as you use it, and do so with a generous hand.

Lemon, buttermilk and black pepper cake (above)

It might not have the national treasure status of the Victoria sponge or engender the same gleeful lust as a chocolate fudge gateau, but a great lemon drizzle cake is, I think, as close as Great British teatimes come to culinary perfection. It's a finely tuned thing: the lemon should be bold enough to make you pause between forkfuls, without sharpening to an eye-watering sourness. My version isn't a traditional lemon drizzle, but it's my favourite. Buttermilk dulls the hit of lemon, while leaving the flavour fresh and bright; black pepper lends a gentle heat which lingers on the tongue after first the citrus, then the sweetness, have come and gone.
Serves 6-8
150g unsalted butter, softened
100g caster sugar
50g light brown soft sugar
Zest of 2 lemons
2 tsp coarsely ground black pepper
2 large eggs
150g plain flour
1½ tsp baking powder
¼ tsp bicarbonate of soda
A generous pinch of salt
50ml buttermilk or soured cream
For finishing
Juice of 2 lemons
50g caster sugar
150-200g lemon curd
Black pepper, coarsely ground
1-2 tsp lemon zest
1 Heat the oven to 180C/350F/gas mark 4. Grease and line a 20cm-diameter spring-form or loose-bottomed tin.
2 Cream the butter with the sugars until light and fluffy, then stir in the lemon zest, pepper and eggs. In a separate bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, bicarbonate of soda and salt. Add half of this to the butter and sugar, along with the buttermilk. Mix, then add the rest of the flour.
3 Spoon the batter into the tin and bake for 30-35 mins, until well-risen, golden brown and springy. A small knife inserted into the centre of the cake should emerge with no more than a crumb or two sticking to it.
4 Demould the cake and cool on a wire rack. Cut it in half horizontally to give two thinner cake layers. Prepare the syrup by heating the lemon juice and sugar in a small pan and simmering for a minute or two. Pour over the cake layers while the syrup is still hot.
5 To assemble, spread one half with the lemon curd and sandwich with the second half. You could pour on some zesty water icing to finish it off if you like, but I prefer to keep it simple with just an extra grind of pepper and a sprinkling of finely grated zest.

Black pepper and vanilla fig rolls

At their worst, fig rolls are soft, saccharin and dry. But things don't have to be this way. Made at home, with good-quality dried figs – which have a pleasingly toffee-like sweetness – humble fig rolls can outshine any showy, oversized cookie or chocolate-flooded biscuit. Fig rolls are back in vogue.
It's rare to find three ingredients that work together in pairs, but don't sit harmoniously as a trio. Black pepper, vanilla and fig only confirm the trend: vanilla gives fig a floral depth; black pepper and fig balance fruitiness with heat; black pepper sharpens the gentle tones of vanilla – all three together is a match made in heaven.
Makes 15-20 rolls
For the filling
150g dried figs, chopped
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 tsp lemon juice
2 tbsp light brown soft sugar
½ tsp coarsely ground black pepper
For the pastry
150g plain flour
50g wholemeal flour
125g unsalted butter, firm but not too cold
½ tsp baking powder
2 tbsp light brown soft sugar
1 tsp coarsely ground black pepper
A pinch of salt
1-2 tbsp milk
1 First, toss the figs with the bicarbonate of soda and pour over just enough boiling water to cover. Leave to soak for 10 minutes, during which time the alkaline bicarbonate of soda will soften the figs, then drain thoroughly. Mash lightly under the back of a fork and leave to cool. When ready, stir in the vanilla extract, lemon juice, sugar and pepper then set aside.
2 Combine the flours in a bowl. Cut the butter into small chunks then rub into the flour using your fingertips, until no visible pieces remain. Add the baking powder, sugar, pepper and salt, plus 1 tbsp of milk, using a small knife to "cut" the liquid into the flour. Add the last of the milk a few drops at a time, until the flour has been very lightly moistened, and is beginning to come together in small clumps. Wrap the dough in clingfilm and refrigerate for 20 minutes or so, just to firm it up. Set the oven to 180C/350F/gas mark 4.
3 Remove the pastry from the fridge and roll it out, on a lightly floured work surface, to around 40cm x 15cm. Spoon the fig filling along the middle of the pastry's long axis, to give a roughly 4cm-wide, 40cm-long heap of filling. Fold one side of the pastry over this, followed by the other, and pat down slightly. Roll the log over so the join is underneath. Cut into 15-20 slices.
4 Arrange the slices of fig roll on a baking tray lined with baking parchment. Bake in the preheated oven for 15-20 minutes – until the pastry is dry and sandy to the touch. Leave to cool on a wire rack before tucking in.