The apple (and pear) cake to end all apple cakes

Man, I really have to get better at this blogging more than once a week thing.  I blame fall, with it's cooler weather not making the world feel like march through the desert and therefore making me want to, you know, do stuff.

But then also fall brings pretty good blog fodder, like the best ever apple cake you will ever have (that is also a GREAT way to use up the ton of apples you seem to have acquired through various methods, hopefully legal, but whatever, I don't know your life).

Every year, we are inundated with apples in the CSA, apples and pears, actually.  This is not really a problem for me, as I love apples and apple pie and apple crisp and all things apple.  However, we have already discussed the fact that my darling husband is not a fan of cooked fruit (because he's wrong, that's why), and so rather than bake an apple pie and then be the only one to eat it, I set out to find out what cooked fruit he WILL eat.

Results? Applesauce (boring),  and this apple cake.  

The cake is essentially a traditional Jewish apple cake, and, this one is a variation of the Smitten Kitchen recipe (SHOCKER). I do a few things differently.  First, I load that thing up with as much fruit as it will hold.  None of this 2 or 3 apples bullshit--we are talking 4 pears and 5 apples.  I like my fruit desserts to have FRUIT.   Second, I've tweaked sugar levels and a bit of methodology to adjust to the massive amounts of fruit I pack in this sucker. 

pears 'n' apples in bowls.  Look how still-life-y it is! I think I may have left one or two apples out, but jammed those pears in the cake. 

I made this nearly every week last year, and am already on track to do the same this fall.  One forewarning--the recipe makes a massive cake.  It calls for a tube pan, which is huge, for a reason.  I've done it in a bundt pan (and had near overflow twice), and I've split it into two loaf pans as well, but it's not quite the same.  If you can, go for the tube pan. 

Also, I have yet to meet anyone who does not like this cake (or my friends are all very kind people and don't want to tell me to my face that it's awful, which is also just fine by me.  I enjoy living my delusions), and routinely give enormous slices away to folks.  I have it on good authority that if you are say, having renovations done on your house, it makes a fine bribe/encouragement/thank you to the folks doing the hard work. And having lived through renos, you really really want those dudes on your side.

Empty bowl, full bowl.  Peeled pears and apples.  Not quite as pretty as the first picture. 

First step, peel your apples and pears.  I can't be the only one who changed her apple-peeling method after seeing Sleepless in Seattle and hearing about how Tom Hanks' wife used to peel the apples in one long curly unbroken string of peel, can I?  That up there, under the pile of pear peels? Are six long, curly, unbroken strings of apple peel. 20 years of practicing right there. 

cinnamonny fruit and vanilla sugar. as you do.

Smitten Kitchen chunks her fruit up, but I'm not a fan of chunks.  I like myself a hearty slice of apple, not too thin, not too thick.  If my apple peeler whizmo worked better on butcher block countertops, this would be the perfect application for that thing--peel, core and slice all in one then just cut the spirally apple into quarters and voila.  Instead, I slice these babies by hand, but I've gotten pretty fast at it by now.

Then you toss the fruit with 1 tablespoon of cinnamon and 5 tablespoons of sugar.  When using pears, I usually grate in a bit of nutmeg, because nutmeg. And of course, I use the vanilla sugar here, because der.  Toss that stuff all together and set aside for later so it gets all nice and juicy.

all the ingredients ready to go.  note please the 4 cup measuring cup used as bowl, because why wash more than you need to?  That sucker has the oil, oj, sugar, eggs and vanilla in there. 

I prefer my cakes to be of the one-bowl variety, because I am lazy.  But barring that, I try to minimize the dishes I can when I can.  And so the flour is weighed, then the baking powder and salt are on top of that.  And I use the 4-cup measuring cup as a bowl, and measure first the oil, then the oj, then add in the sugar (which almost always goes with the wet ingredients), and last the 4 eggs and vanilla.  Beat the crap out of that with a fork and then dump into the drys and stir.

I've cut down the sugar a bit here from 2 cups in the original recipe to 1 1/2, mostly because I use a shit ton of fruit in this cake. If the apples or pears are a bit tart, you can go up a bit.  I've also swapped out half the sugar for brown sugar or maple sugar for a bit of variety.

One last thing about the OJ--it's a great flavor and traditional in this kind of cake, but still somewhat unexpected for something so apple-y.  But if you don't have oj, try cider, apple juice, lemon juice, or anything else relatively flavorful. Booze might be a bit much, but why not try it?

Mixed!

See? One bowl, one measuring cup (and we'll just pretend the apples and pears aren't in another bowl).

The prepped pan.  I like the coconut oil spray from trader joes. 

Spray or butter the tube pan, otherwise it'll be a bitch to get out. Ask me how I know!

first layer of batter + sugared fruit.

In the original method, you pour in about half the batter, layer on half the fruit, then top with the rest of the batter, and then the rest of the fruit.  But I like my fruit scattered throughout, so there are a few ways to do that.  

The first way, and the one I wind up doing the most, is to add more layers.  Spread a little batter, scatter some fruit (including the sugary juices!).  Do it again, spreading the batter a bit with a spatula before adding the fruit.  Keep doing it, adding layers until you run out, but be sure to finish up with the last of the fruit. 

Alternately, pour a bit of batter in the bottom, then dump most of the fruit into the remaining batter, reserving a few handfuls,  and give a stir.  Pour that mixture into the pan, and top with the remaining fruit.  I don't love how the sugary cinnamony juices incorporate into the batter, leaving it somewhat homogeneous and not streaking the final cake with delicious streaks of sugar and cinnamon, so I don't usually go this route.

three more layers later... ready for the oven. 

This pan right here? Weighs about a ton.  

an hour and a 40 minutes later (seriously, it's a big cake).

And then the sucker bakes in a 350 degree oven for--no joke--an hour and a half.  And frankly, longer.  The more fruit you add, the longer it will take to fully set, so don't be shy with a cake tester (or toothpick, or skewer, or sharp knife) and poke that cake to see when the tester comes out dry. Because of the amount of fruit you've packed in there, it's very hard to overbake this cake and have it come out dry. 

mmm cake. 

The cake keeps exceptionally well for several days, also because of the amount of fruit you've packed in there. It only gets better and more moist.  Which is good because it is MASSIVE.

Here's the recipe!

Jewish Apple (and Pear) Cake

  •  6 to 8 (to 10) apples and/or pears, peeled and sliced
  • 1 1/2 cups sugar, plus 5 tbsp, divided
  • 1 tbsp cinnamon
  • 1 cup oil (sunflower, canola, melted coconut oil, melted butter etc)
  • 1/4 cup oj
  • 2 tsp vanilla
  • 4 large eggs
  • 2 3/4 cups flour (345 grams)
  • 1 tbsp baking powder
  • 1 tsp table salt (or 1 1/2 tsp kosher salt, give or take)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees, and spray a large tube pan (or bundt pan, or two loaf pans) with non-stick spray. Set aside.

Toss the peeled and sliced apples and pears with 5 tbsp of sugar and 1 tbsp of cinnamon. Set aside.

Mix the oil, oj, vanilla, remaining 1 1/2 cups sugar, and eggs until well combined. 

Stir together the flour, baking powder, and salt.  Dump in the wet ingredients and mix until well combined.

Assemble the cake: spread a bit of batter into the bottom of the pan, add a layer of apples and their juices.  Spread a bit more batter on top, layer on more apples.  Repeat until all batter and apples have been used up, ending with a layer of apples.  Alternately, pour a bit of batter into the bottom of the pan, stir most of the apples into the remaining batter, reserving some for topping, and spread into pan. Top with remaining apples.

Bake at 350 degrees for 1 and 1/2 hours to 1 hr 45 min, or until a cake tester inserted into the cake comes out clean. 

Let cool, then remove from pan.  Keeps very well in an airtight container, and is better second and third days. 

 

clafoutis!

And of course, because I am a nerd, now I am now singing "Clafoutis" to myself, to the tune of "Shipoopi."  That will NEVER get out of my head. Ugh, Meredith Wilson.

Doesn't it look pretty?  It's also pretty damn tasty, especially with a bit of whipped cream.  (never mind the fact that it didn't slice well, eh, whatever)

Shockingly I am the only one in my house who likes warm fruit--who doesn't like pie, I ask you? WHO?  Everyone living in my house, except me.  Of course, pie and fruit desserts are my favorite.  Because of course. 

Cherries can sometimes bridge the divide, but still since JBB was away on a trip the day I picked up the CSA share and the box of cherries, I figured why not make something I like.  And something that is easy. Because I am lazy.

And so clafoutis! Which is essential an eggy pancake batter poured over fruit in a cake pan or pie tin, and baked in the oven.  It puffs up, browns lightly and is fantastic hot or cold. Traditionally, it's made with cherries, with the pits in, which lends a bit of an almond flavor.  But you can use almost any kind of fruit--berries are great, but so are plums and peaches.  And the method is dead easy: arrange fruit in a pie dish, mix together wet ingredients, dump in flour, and pour over fruit.  Bake and DONE.

I turn to the clafoutis pretty often in the season, because you can easily adjust the size you make to the amount of fruit you have, and because it works so beautfully with so many types of fruit.  Today it was cherries, and though I do love a traditional French clafoutis and don't mind eating around pits myself, I have kids, and kids do things like choke on pits,  I went with pitted cherries and turned my counter in a cherry murder scene.

before the crime.

While technically the cherry pitter is a unitasker (I mean, it also pits olives! But it still just pits things), it's also way easier than all the non-unitasker methods of pitting cherries (poking them out with a chopstick or skewer, using a loop of a paper clip) and way quicker. 

cherry splatter patterns

It does leave a bit of a mess though, so do it over a bowl or something. 

all ready to go

The batter for clafoutis is essentially a crepe batter, and it really does come together in less than five minutes.  That's 3 eggs, 2 tablespoons melted butter, and 1/2 cup of sugar in that batter bowl (isn't it great? I love batter bowls with the handle and pouring spout.  This one I picked up at a pottery place on Cape Cod), and 1 cup of milk in the measuring cup.  Once again, I am lazy, and so I melted the butter in the cup first, poured it into the bowl and then reused the cup for the milk.

homemade vanilla and batter.  And sippy cup.  And wine. 

homemade vanilla and batter.  And sippy cup.  And wine. 

Even though almond flavor can be traditional for the clafoutis, I went with vanilla because I like it better.  That's my bottle of homemade vanilla that's been in use since 2008 (refilled countless times from the giant jar of homemade vanilla that's stashed in the pantry--remind me and I'll write about that sometime)

wet meets dry

Whisk up the wet ingredients (and yes, the sugar counts as wet), dump in the flour and whisk again.  This is pretty much exactly the way I make crepes, the only difference is the amount of flour.  Tweak the proportions to be a bit more flour heavy, add a leavener and you get a pancake.  Tweak a bit looser and you have a full on crepe batter. And it's easy to adjust the levels of batter to suit your fruit--just adjust the proportions based on how many eggs to use.

the pour

Then pour the batter over the fruit.  Note something missing in the pic above? That's right, I forgot to butter the damn dish, before assembling.  Because OF COURSE I DID.  This basically means that you get no beauty shot of the perfect slice of clafoutis at the end of the day because the damn thing won't come out pretty.  It tastes great, but doesn't slice well.

So lesson here? DO AS I SAY, NOT AS I DO.  Butter the damn dish before doing anything else.

pretty! raw!

But doesn't it look pretty now, before it's fused to the damn pan?  It does!  And look, I even thought to put it on a sheet pan to make it a hell of a lot easier to get in and out of the oven (and in case of spills or overflow).

35-40 minutes later? Voila! You are done! Let it cool a bit, serve warm (perhaps, pried out of the pan if you also forgot to butter the damn pan), or cold. 

And here's the recipe, tweaked and adapted from several clafoutis recipes.

Clafoutis

  • 1 lb fruit, sliced and/or pitted (Cherries are traditional, stone fruit works great too)
  • 3 eggs
  • 1/2 cup sugar
  • 1 tbsp vanilla
  • 2 tbsp melted butter
  • 1 cup whole milk
  • 1/2 cup all purpose flour

Preheat oven to 325 deg.  BUTTER A PIE OR CAKE DISH.  Arrange fruit in single layer in dish and set aside on a sheet pan.

Whisk together the eggs, sugar, vanilla, melted butter, and milk until thoroughly combined.  Add in the flour and whisk--you're going for zero lumps.  The butter may make a few little ones, but you're really looking out for flour lumps.

Pour batter over fruit, and carefully place in oven. Bake for 35-40 minutes, or until center is set and top is pale gold.  Let cool in the pan, dust with powdered sugar.  Slice and serve warm or cold with lightly whipped cream, ice cream, more fruit, or just a fork.

Pavlova: is it the best dessert ever? (Hint: Yes. Yes, it is.)

pavlova my heart. (Also doesn't make sense, I know.)

pavlova my heart. (Also doesn't make sense, I know.)

I was totally going to have a dumb joke title like "pavlova, I hardly know ya!", but realized that made zero sense.

So i went with the slightly more hyperbolic, but far more accurate headline above. Cause let's face it, pavlova is the shit

Named after the famous Russian ballerina, Anna Pavlova, and thought to be created in her honor during one of her tours of Australia (or New Zealand) in the 1920s, it's a meringue shell, topped with whipped cream and fruit. Traditionally the fruit is some combination of strawberries, passion fruit, kiwis, bananas. The meringue isn't your regular crispy meringue either; it's crispy on the outside and marshmallowy and pillowy on the inside (thanks to vinegar and cornstarch).

This year, there were a billion folks at my mom'parents house for their super laid back easter festivities (featuring the oddly competitive easter egg hunt), and I was on dessert duty. Now, I am not a massive fan of cake, much preferring the pie-style for desserts (don't get me wrong. I am not ever turning down cake), but I also figured something a bit lighter might do well after stuffing our gaping maws with mac and cheese and ham and crescent rolls and candy. Thus, pavlova.

Despite looking delicate, it's actually a great dish to bring to a party, so long as you can protect your meringue from transit, small children, and nibblers. Just bring the fruit and cream separate, and assemble there. I figured if mine didn't survive, it's wind up as some impromptu Eton Mess (crumbled meringues, whipped cream, berries, served in a dish).

Choosing the fruit was easy: mixed berries all the way, passion fruit not just because it's traditional but because i love it. And no bananas or kiwis because enough was enough. Though i did as lemon curd because who doesn't like lemon curd? People who are dead inside, that's who.

Fairway totally let me down on the passion fruit front, but at least they had frozen passion fruit pulp. (by Goya, oh boy-a! And now I have totally dated myself. Whatevs. I'm old.) 

I didn't have the one true recipe for pavlova, so i read through a few, and cobbled together one that I'm pretty happy with, all told. 

This makes a big pavlova, about 10" across, but can also be used to make individual ones by doing little meringue nests instead of one big one, or reduced by taking down the number of egg whites.  A few notes on whipping egg whites: the bowl and whisk must be totally clean, with no grease or the whites won't whip. And even a tiny drop of yolk in the whites will make the whipping fail. So separate carefully. (Whipping cream is easier, just keep it all very cold.

here it 'tis, with inspiration and adapted from Ina Garten, Martha Stewart (technically Geoffrey Rush's recipe), Gourmet, Bon Appetit, and The Kitchn.

Pavlova

Serves 8 to 10

Meringue: 

  • 6 egg whites
  • 1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
  • 2 1/2 tsp plain white vinegar 
  • 1 1/2 tsp cornstarch
  • 2 tsp vanilla
  • Pinch salt

Topping:

  • 8 oz heavy or whipping cream, very cold
  • 2 tbsp sugar
  • 2 tbsp vanilla
  • 2-3 cups fruit, such as blueberries, raspberries, blackberries, sliced strawberries, passion fruit pulp
  • Jarred lemon curd (optional), I get mine at trader joes

What to do:

  • Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Trace a circle into parchment paper using a plate or a mixing bowl. Flip the parchment over onto a baking sheet (so you don't have a graphite meringue). 
  • If your parchment is super curly, crumple it up then smooth it out first.
 "pencil on parchment", 2015

 "pencil on parchment", 2015

  • If your parchment is super curly, crumple it up then smooth it out first.
  • Separate your eggs: use three bowls for this. One for cracking each egg into and separating over, one for transferring the clean whites to, and one for yolks. Trust, the worst thing is fucking the whole shebang up with yolk in the whites on egg number six. So do each egg over the little bowl first, so if you mess up the separating on one, you don't have to start from square one. There are lots of egg separating gadgets out there, and they are all a waste of money. Just use your (clean) hands to hold the yolk while keeping the white drain through. Done.
sometimes the best tool is you.

sometimes the best tool is you.

  • Put the egg whites into the bowl of a mixer (or a large bowl if you are using a hands mixer). Add vinegar and salt to the egg whites, and beat on high until the eggs are light and fluffy, and when you raise the beater you have soft peaks (they slump over on themselves).

action shot of meringue!

action shot of meringue!

  • While the mixer is running, add the sugar little by little, and sprinkle in the cornstarch in. Keep beating until the whites are stuff and glossy, and hold stiff peaks (no slumping). Don't overbeat or they'll get grainy. Stir in vanilla.
Stiff peaks (that's what she said)

Stiff peaks (that's what she said)

  • Mound your meringue into the center of the circle on the parchment paper, and use a spatula to nudge it to the edges, creating a shallow nest in the center to hold the cream and fruit.
ready to bake, low and slow

ready to bake, low and slow

  • Put into oven and immdiately turn the heat down to 225 degrees (or 250). Bake a large pavlova 1 hour 15 minutes, then turn off oven and let cool completely in closed oven. (Don't open the door while cooking or cooling.) Bake individual pavlovas about 50 minutes before turning off the oven and letting cool completely. You can even leave that sucker in the shut oven overnight.
  • The meringue should be crispy on the outside and may possibly be a very pale gold. Use a big spatula to help you transfer the meringue off the parchment and on to a serving platter. It's pretty fragile, but it's OK if it cracks. Just reassemble it as much as possible on the platter. Be gentle and don't try to pick it up by the edges or something.
  • If you aren't topping and eating the pavlova that day, wrap the whole thing, platter and all in plastic and keep it OUT of the fridge.
  • When you  are ready to top it, Wash and slice your fruit. Defrost the passion fruit pulp if you're using it.  Whip the cream, sugar, and vanilla together with a mixer (hand or stand), until it's softly whipped. Don't go for the super stiff whipped cream, you want dollops like clouds.
like a cloud. A delicious cloud.

like a cloud. A delicious cloud.

  • Assemble the pavlova: I plopped some lemon curd onto the meringue shell, then covered that with the whipped cream, leaving a border of meringue. Pile on the fruit, then drizzle the passion fruit pulp (which was more like passion fruit liquid) over top.  Slice like a cake and eat.
right before we ate it all.

right before we ate it all.

Nots:  

  • If it totally crumbles while you are transferring, make Eton mess by layering the meringue pieces with whipped cream and fruit.
  • Individual pavlovas work beautifully and while slightly less impressive looking are more sturdy to transfer.
  • Sppoedly you can make the meringue well ahead, wrap well in plastic, and freeze for about two weeks. I've never frozen meringue before, so if you try it and it works, please tell me.
  • A topped pavlova will get soggy if left too long, and if it's humid your meringue might not be the crispest or may begin to weep sugar beads.