Gugelhupf? Guglhupf? Kugelhupf? Gugelhopf? Let's call the whole thing off. In any case, you likely know it as bundt cake, the Americanised form of the German word Bundkuchen and the name given to this particular cake when it was brought to the United States by German Jewish immigrants in the early twentieth century. In Vienna, where it was born, I've only ever seen it referred to as Gugelhupf or Guglhupf, which in any case is one and the same thing: Gugel- comes from the word Kugel, meaning round or orb-like; -hupf from the verb hüpfen, meaning to leap or bounce, or perhaps in this context, to rise and spring back like a cake. The important thing here, then, is the tin the cake is baked in as opposed to the batter itself. Though Gugelhupf began life as a yeast dough studded with raisins, akin to the basis for the French baba au rhum, nowadays more-or-less any cake baked in that signature round pan with its bumps and lumps and crenelations and funnel in the centre that allows the air to pass through, whether made from butter or oil, vanilla or chocolate or marbled, separated or whole eggs, is referred to as a Gugelhupf. (The most interesting variation thereof is perhaps the Kastaniengugelhupf, made at least in part with chestnut flour, produced from the non-edible part of the nut. This can be found in Vienna at Joseph Brot.)
The story behind the Gugelhupf is as old, supposedly, as the invention of the baking tin itself, which is to say, its origins can be found in the Roman period of European history when pans were welded out of bronze and copper. Though references to the cake can be found in cookbooks dating back to the seventeenth century, and indeed, the Gugelhupf was said to be beloved by Marie Antoinette who, in the eighteenth century, brought the cake from Austria to the kitchens of Versailles, it wasn't until the Biedermeier period (1815-1848) that the Gugelhupf experienced a kind of renaissance in Vienna that was transmitted by way of Austrian imperialism to the other parts of the empire. Its biggest fan, if not the beheaded Marie, was Kaiser Franz Joseph I who, during his long nineteenth-century reign amidst the collapsing scenery of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, would be served Gugelhupf for breakfast (of all things). At his summer residence in Bad Ischl in Upper Austria, on days the kitchen did not make it fresh, Franz Joseph would have the Gugelhupf delivered by the nearby Konditorei Zauner, named as such an Imperial and Royal Purveyor to the Court. If it was good enough for the Kaiser, it was good enough for the new middle class in Vienna, who then took on the Gugelhupf as a kind of status symbol (akin to the Krapfen, as previously discussed). Now a mass-produced product one can pull off the shelf in any supermarket, its enduring popularity owes to its simplicity. A Gugelhupf can be made at the drop of a hat -- provided one has the tin!
