Some desserts are just sugar and fluff, gone in a bite. Others carry history, culture, and a damn good story. Medovik is one of them. Born in imperial kitchens, perfected in Soviet homes, and reimagined by modern pastry chefs, this honey-laced masterpiece isn’t just eaten—it’s experienced.
A cake with a past
The legend goes like this: A young pastry chef in the Russian imperial court, unaware of Empress Elizabeth Alexeievna’s disdain for honey, presented her with a new creation—thin layers of honey-sweetened sponge held together by a tangy cream filling. She took a bite, and despite her well-known aversion, she fell in love with the dessert. A happy accident as some would say. The kind of story that makes you wonder if she ever truly hated honey at all.
Nice story, but there’s no real proof of it. What is certain is that Medovik became a sensation in the 20th century—not in royal palaces, but in Soviet kitchens. Unlike the heavily decorated French pastries reserved for Moscow’s elite, Medovik was a practical cake. It used simple, affordable ingredients, required no fancy equipment, and most importantly, it got better with time. The Soviet approach to food was never just about taste—it was about function, efficiency, and making the most out of what was available. This was a cake that could sit overnight, soaking up its filling, growing richer and softer with each passing hour. It was the perfect example of patience paying off.
Modern evolution of a classic
Like all great desserts, Medovik has evolved. Traditionalists stick to honey sponge and sour cream frosting, but pastry chefs around the world have experimented with new flavours and techniques. Some swap out the sour cream for dulce de leche, creating a richer, caramelised version. Others add cocoa for a bittersweet chocolate twist. There are nut-infused variations, fruit-layered adaptations, and even savoury takes that trade sweet fillings for ingredients like foie gras and truffle.
Why Medovik belongs at your next celebration
Medovik is a cake made for gathering. Its multi-layered structure makes for a stunning presentation, but more than that, it’s a dessert that demands to be shared. It’s rich without being overpowering, sweet but not cloying, and its depth of flavour only improves with time. The best part? The texture. When done right, Medovik isn’t just soft—it’s almost impossibly tender, a balance between sponge and cream that melts the moment it hits your tongue. It’s a cake of patience, of nostalgia, of craftsmanship—exactly the kind of thing you want on a table surrounded by friends, family, and good conversation.
How we do it at Eclair at the Bay
At Eclair at the Bay, we honour tradition while refining the details. Medovik is a cake of patience—its thin, honey-rich layers start firm but soften over time, absorbing the cream and deepening in flavour.
We begin with a honey dough, cooked to a deep caramelisation to intensify its richness. Each layer is rolled thin, baked until golden, and left to cool. For the filling, we blend thickened cream, sour cream, and honey, creating a perfectly balanced texture—light, tangy, and just sweet enough. A dusting of finely ground biscuit crumbs finishes the cake before it rests for 24 hours, allowing the flavours to meld.
Taste the story
Medovik is a reminder that great food doesn’t need extravagance, just time and care. It’s proof that history can be tasted, that a cake made in a Soviet apartment kitchen can stand alongside the world’s most refined pastries. And it’s a damn good reason to stop by our shop in Byron Bay, grab a slice, and experience a piece of culinary history for yourself.
Have you ever tried Medovik? If not, what are you waiting for?
