A French Grandmother’s Lemon Yoghurt Cake
This is the cake that feels like it’s always been there.
No icing. No layers. No ceremony.
It’s mixed in one bowl, baked without fuss, and eaten in slices that are just a little thicker than polite. It’s the sort of cake that sits on the counter and improves quietly, asking very little and giving a lot back.
This is a proper French grandmother’s cake — reliable, generous, and deeply comforting.
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Ingredients
• 120g plain yoghurt or Greek yoghurt
• 200g granulated sugar
• 3 large eggs
• 180g plain flour
• 2 tsp baking powder
• ½ tsp salt
• Finely grated zest of 1 lemon
• 110g neutral oil (sunflower, rapeseed, grapeseed or canola)
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For the lemon glaze
• 60ml fresh lemon juice
• 50g granulated sugar
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Method
1. Prepare the tin
Heat the oven to 170°C (160°C fan).
Grease and line a 20cm round cake tin.
2. Mix the wet ingredients
In a large bowl, whisk together the yoghurt, sugar and eggs until smooth.
Slowly whisk in the oil.
3. Add the dry ingredients
Sift in the flour, baking powder and salt.
Add the lemon zest.
Fold gently until just combined — don’t overmix.
4. Bake
Pour into the prepared tin and bake for 35–40 minutes, until lightly golden and a skewer comes out clean.
5. Make the glaze
Mix the lemon Juice and sugar to a grainy paste
6. Finish the cake
While the cake is still warm, pierce it all over with a skewer and spoon over the glaze slowly, allowing it to soak in. Dust with Icing sugar or a sprinkle of granulated sugar for extra crunch.
Cool completely before slicing.
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🌿 Artisan Layer: Why this cake works
This cake is richer than it looks, but never heavy.
The yoghurt gives tenderness.
The oil keeps it moist for days.
The lemon sharpens everything just enough.
The best versions of this cake aren’t rushed, iced or overthought. They’re baked, glazed, and left alone.
Good ingredients, treated kindly, always show.
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Feeding & Hosting Notes
• Serves: 8–10 slices
• Make ahead: Keeps beautifully for 3–4 days, wrapped
• Freezing: Freezes very well, sliced
• Serving: Perfect with coffee, tea, or a spoon of crème fraîche
This is a cake that belongs on a table where people come and go.
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A quiet note
This isn’t a cake for showing off.
It’s a cake for feeding people — including yourself.
And that’s exactly enough.