Another cake, because why not (plums and cinnamon and honey)

Another cake, because why not (plums and cinnamon and honey)

Contrary to popular belief, cake is actually really good for you. I won’t go into the details of why because you know it’s all things like fat and sugar and vitamins and calories, blah blah blah—what a bore!—so I’ll just skip straight to the part of how nice it is to have something like this around.

Ingredients

  • Contrary to popular belief, cake is actually really good for you. I won’t go into the details of why because you know it’s all things like fat and sugar and vitamins and calories, blah blah blah—what a bore!—so I’ll just skip straight to the part of how nice it is to have something like this around.
  • This recipe comes from Nigel Slater, found first on Orangette (and later seen on Lottie & Doof). Nigel calls it a “pudding cake of plums, cinnamon and honey,” which sounds like a pleasant thing and turns out it tastes like a very pleasant thing, too. Dark and sweet and tart all at once—it seems to fit this exact moment when the seasons are changing and it’s both summer and fall. Make it on a day when the temperature takes a dip, when turning on your oven doesn’t sound like a death wish. Then enjoy a slice of the cake the next day (it gets better as the days go by), for breakfast, tea-time, or dessert, even if the weather momentarily takes a step back to feel like summer again. It tastes good in all weather, and it’s also one of those cakes (quite like the zucchini one I just posted) that tastes good any time of day.
  • It was one of many recipes that I started bookmarking because they featured plums. Plums are something I’ve spent most of my life avoiding, believe it or not. The backyard of my childhood home has all different kinds of fruit trees, two of which contained plums. Sounds like a pretty sweet deal, right? No. The production of extra-juicy yellow and red-skinned plums seemed to never stop—we’d have bags upon bags full of them and there was always over-ripened, sickly-sweet splattered plums littered like hidden mines underneath the trees. The smell was SICK and sick like in not a good way, and by the way, have you ever stepped barefoot onto an over-ripe once-yellow-but-now-brownish plum as you’re trying to walk across the lawn? Yeah, as I said, SICK.
  • So yeah, plums were never, ever something I ate willingly. But then I moved to Paris for a year and became civilized and ate properly and now all my food tastes have changed (what a cliche!!) but really—after eating handfuls of les mirabelles following meals in the summer and early fall, they got to me. My favorite way to eat them is probably still as a sweet treat following a meal, but when you have as many as my family does, it’s a good idea to figure out how to pack them into as many different forms as possible (next up: jam). So far, this form of them, jam-packed into a batter of spices and dark honey, is a favorite. It works well with the red-skinned plums that are sweet and juicy but still tart. Slice ’em thin and pack as many as you can into the cake.
  • One Year Ago: Cold Chocolate Snacking Cake
  • Two Years Ago: Chicken Liver Pate
  • Three Years Ago: Dried Cherry-Walnut Cookies
  • Nigel Slater’s Pudding Cake of Plums, Cinnamon & Honey
  • From Tender: Volume II, via Orangette
  • For some reason I like my cakes in circular form and the only 9-inch cake pan in my possession had pretty short sides. So I filled it up 3/4 the way with batter—which rose up just short of maybe 1-centimeter under the top once I dropped in the plum slices—which left me with a little leftover batter. I kind of like how it puffed up around the top of the pan and got this addicting chewy crust, but I think for all intents and purposes, it’s probably just smartest to get a hold of a correctly sized pan.
  • 260 grams (2 cups) all-purpose flour
  • 1 slightly heaping teaspoon baking powder
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1 slightly heaping teaspoon ground cinnamon
  • 2 pinches salt
  • 200 grams (2/3 cup) golden syrup
  • 2 tablespoons honey
  • 125 grams (9 tablespoons) butter
  • 125 grams (3/4 cup) lightly packed brown sugar
  • 2 large eggs
  • 240 ml (1 cup) milk
  • 350 grams (5ish) ripe red plums, pitted and sliced into 1-inch-ish segments
Read the whole recipe on The Moveable Feasts