What happens when your in-laws don't celebrate your birthday with enough enthusiasm? You look on the bright side and make such a great cake that it sings for itself.
My wife is a good woman in every way, but she and her family observe some peculiar customs. Mercifully, I have been spared the sight of her father dancing naked in his socks, but I have been forced to navigate many of their eccentricities.
For example, there is a total omertà on singing. On the rare occasions when the family attends church, my father-in-law, Jeremy, refuses on principle to join in with the hymns - instead miming the words as awkwardly as John Redwood pretending to sing the Welsh National Anthem. (If you're too young to remember this exquisitely painful episode, go to bit.ly/1mSCb9a.)
I didn't know about the singing ban when, in the early stages of our courtship, my future wife invited me to her mother's birthday party. Everything was very jolly: presents were opened, sandwiches scoffed. But then, as the cake made its way to the table, I launched into a rousing tenor rendition of Happy Birthday. The family shot each other panicked looks across the table. Jeremy stood to attention, frozen in terror, while his daughters, giggling nervously, joined in to cover my embarrassment.
Some years later - having overcome this unpromising start, and married their daughter - I found myself celebrating my 40th birthday while on holiday with the in-laws. It turned out refusing to sing Happy Birthday is only one of their birthday foibles. My in-laws gave me a jock strap. Her sister gave me a sweat band. I cooked my own birthday supper and, I am pretty sure, led the toast. I could be found later that night mournfully singing Happy Birthday to myself under an olive tree.
Well, it's my birthday again next week (26 May - John Wayne, Patsy Palmer, Peggy Lee) and again I am going to be on holiday with my family. But this time I am taking no chances. My sister, a professional singer, will be there to lead the chorus. I've bought my own present - barbecue tongs - and I will be packing the ingredients for my own cake: this lovely gluten-free number dreamt up by Jane.
Lemon and almond cake
Cooking time: 45 minutes
Prep time: 15 minutes
Serves 8-10
150g soft butter
150g sugar
A few drops of vanilla essence
3 eggs
3 tbsp lemon curd
Zest of 2 lemons
100g ground almonds
100g rice flour
2 tsp baking powder (gluten free)
To decorate
2 tbsp creme fraiche or whipped cream
Mixed berries, such as redcurrants, raspberries and strawberries
A dusting of icing sugar
1 Preheat your oven 160C/325F/gas mark 3. Grease a 20cm deep cake tin with a little butter and line with baking parchment.
2 Cream together the butter and the sugar with the vanilla. Add the eggs one at a time and beat well after each addition (this can be done in a food processor).
3 Add the rest of the ingredients and mix well until you have a smooth batter.
4 Tip into your prepared cake tin and place in the preheated oven for about 45 minutes or until the cake is cooked through. The cake will be firm to the touch and when pierced with a skewer - it should come out clean.
5 Place on a cooling rack for about 15 minutes or once it is cool enough to handle. Remove from the tin and allow it to cool completely.
6 To serve, top with the creme fraiche or whipped cream, decorate with the berries and dust with the icing sugar.
Recipe by Jane Baxter
What else you can do
The above cake is gluten-free, but you can use the same weight of self-raising flour and cut down the baking powder to 1 tsp. To make the cake extra lemony, pierce all over with a skewer while still warm and pour over a mixture of the juice of 2 lemons and 2 tbsp granulated sugar.
General cake-baking tips
I learned to bake properly a few years back when writing a book about baking with the magnificent Claire Ptak, formerly of Chez Panisse and now of Violet Cakes in East London. She taught me loads of cake-baking tips, but there are two that have stuck in my head and I now consider to be completely invaluable.
• Slow and low: If in doubt when making a cake, bake it slow and low for greater moistness throughout. The name of this method came from a Beastie Boys rap that Claire is fond of. "Slow and low - that is the tempo" is the lyric and it has become her baking mantra.
• Weigh water on your scales: Measuring jugs can give you a rough idea of weight, but is not accurate enough for many recipes.
Henry Dimbleby is co-founder of the natural fast-food restaurant chain Leon (@henry_leon). Get your kids cooking at cook5.co.uk
Photography: A lemon and almond cake is just the thing to make your birthday a bit more special. Jill Mead for the Guardian.