What We Need Now 2: Plum Cake

 

This is an elegant, truly delicious, and unbelievably simple recipe for a “pantry cake” (a fruit-based, crispy/tender slab cake that doesn’t require any obscure ingredients) that Michelle devised for our friends at Elena and the Remember Skin Contact? cookbook they created this spring as a fundraiser for the Montreal Restaurant Workers Relief Fund after the shutdown went into effect. (Great people! Great cause!)

Imagine a luscious, plum-laden European coffee cake, and you kind of get the gist of this cake and the vision behind it.

fig. a: no imagination necessary—here it is!

Imagine a cake that’s incredibly easy to make and knocks it out of the park every time.

Michelle had berries in mind when she first invented the recipe, because it was April, berries were due to begin arriving on the scene by June and early July, and the thought of making this cake with blueberries or blackberries seemed like a natural. But she wanted a recipe that would accommodate other fruit options as well, and one of the variations that she was most interested in trying was with plums. Why plums? Well, we love plums, we love plum desserts and plum dishes, and we often find ourselves dreaming of plums—sugar plums, and otherwise. I mean, we did name our preserves line Švestka, after all.

fig. b: early branding

fig. b: early branding

What we didn’t know at the time was that while 2020 has been an absolutely lousy year for virtually everything, it turned into a pretty good plum year. We have an old plum tree that had never really produced in the time we’d known it, but that exploded with fruit this summer.

fig. c: bumper crop

And plums at the farm stands, farmers’ markets, and co-ops have been tasty and plentiful. In fact, this latest batch of the plum cake was inspired by these lovely, Italian-style Valor plums that we came across on the weekend. So tiny! So sweet! Plus, they look a lot like the Švestka plum!

fig. d: Valor is my name

fig. d: Valor is my name

So, if Italian plums are in season or available where you live, they’d be perfect for this recipe.

But the genius of this recipe is that it will definitely work like a charm with berries of all kinds, and it could just as easily become a cherry or pear cake (and around here, it has). And if you don’t have any kirsch on hand, you could also use other liquors, like rum or bourbon, depending on the fruit. In other words, it’s an incredibly versatile recipe. Stick to the original “luscious, ____-laden European coffee cake” vision behind the recipe, and you should be in good stead.

We highly, highly recommend the original plum version, though. We’re a little partial, of course, but we both think it’s kind of perfect, and I’m quite sure it’s my favourite variation.

fig. e: Plum Cake, by the slice

Michelle’s Simply Beautiful Plum Cake

batter:

1/2 cup A.P. flour

1/2 cup semolina flour

1 tsp baking powder

1 generous pinch salt

2 eggs

3/4 cup sugar 

1 tbsp sour cream

1 tbsp (or more!) kirsch

1/2 cup butter, melted

toppings:

a pint of fresh plums, pitted and halved (both tart and sweet varieties can be used—just adjust accordingly [see below])

a handful of sliced almonds

1 tablespoon sugar (a little more if your plums are extra tart)

Preheat oven to 350º F.

Butter 8” x 8” square cake pan.  Lay a piece of parchment paper inside that’s large enough to cover the bottom and the sides of the pan.  Butter the parchment paper, too.

Mix dry ingredients in a bowl.

Whisk eggs with sugar until mixture lightens in colour and becomes creamy.  Whisk in sour cream until fully blended.  Whisk in kirsch until fully incorporated.  Whisk in melted butter until mixture is homogeneous.  This whole process should take no more than about 3 minutes. 

Add dry ingredients, and whisk once more until just smooth.

Pour batter into parchment-lined cake pan.

Place plums, cut-side down, over the surface of the batter.  Sprinkle sliced almonds over top.  Sprinkle 1 tablespoon of sugar over top almonds and plums.

Place in the oven on the middle rack.

Bake for 30-35 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the middle of the cake comes out clean.

Place on a cooling rack and allow to cool.

Cut into squares, serve, and enjoy.  This cake is perfect on its own with a cup of coffee or tea, or an after-dinner drink.  But it’s also excellent with vanilla ice cream, or freshly whipped cream.

It’s simple. It’s beautiful. It’s also delicious. What are you waiting for?

aj

Thank you berry much

 
fig. a: out of the berry patch

fig. a: out of the berry patch

fig. b: bloobs & black raspberries

fig. b: bloobs & black raspberries

If you’re going to have an absolutely bonkers berry year—and we’re definitely experiencing one in our little neck of the woods right now—there are a few crucial recipes you need to go along with it.  And in my mind, one of them’s gotta be a proper pancake recipe.

Sure, you can fold berries directly into your batter to make, say, blueberry pancakes—you might even have a favourite blueberry pancake recipe on hand—but I’m talking about a “plain” (but definitely not plain) pancake recipe.  One that you can adorn with an unholy combination of butter, syrup, and freshly macerated berries as they come hot off the griddle.  One that will serve you well even when fresh, local berries have gone out of season.  One that’s truly heavenly.

fig. c: out of “the grocery store”

fig. c: out of “the grocery store”

In this case, the recipe I have in mind is one that first appeared in Canal House Cooking no. 6 (“The Grocery Store”) way back in 2011.  But when Melissa Hamilton and Christopher Hirsheimer—the prodigious talents behind Canal House—compiled a year’s worth of their best recipes for their collection Canal House Cooks Everyday the following year, it’s not one that made the cut, strangely.  Hamilton & Hirsheimer were generous enough to share Hirsheimer’s family recipe for “Buttermilk Love Cakes” in their book—and that’s a blessing, there’s no doubt about it—but this recipe is similarly phenomenal, and it’s maybe just a tiny bit easier to get exceptional results with, because it’s maybe just a tiny bit easier to source good sour cream (which this recipe calls for) than it is to source good buttermilk (which the “love cakes” call for).  (Then again, maybe not—depends on where you live.)

fig. d: these gorgeous pancakes are a delicious part of a complete breakfast

fig. d: these gorgeous pancakes are a delicious part of a complete breakfast

Like virtually all of the very best pancakes, these sour cream pancakes are light as a feather and anything but banal.  These are pancakes that turn out beautifully, they’re supremely flavourful, and they marry wonderfully with the mixture of raspberries, blueberries, and black raspberries we’ve been enjoying in recent days.

fig. e: the red & the blue

fig. e: the red & the blue

So without any further ado…

Canal House Cooking’s Sour Cream Pancakes

1 cup sour cream*

3 large eggs, separated

2 tablespoon melted butter

7 tablespoons cake flour

1 tablespoon sugar

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

Vegetable oil

Whisk the sour cream and egg yolks together in a medium mixing bowl.  Whisk in the melted butter.  Put the flour, sugar, baking soda, and salt into a sieve and sift into the sour cream mixture.  Lightly whisk until just mixed [a few lumps won’t hurt anything, according to Hamilton & Hirsheimer].

Put the egg whites into a clean mixing bowl and beat with a whisk until soft peaks form (this takes a bit of elbow grease, but it’s worth it). Use a rubber spatula to fold them into the batter.  Please, for the love of god, don’t overwork the batter.  Keep it light and fluffy.

Pour a little oil on a nonstick griddle or large skillet.  Wipe out the oil with a paper towel, leaving only the thinnest film.  Heat the griddle over medium or even medium-low heat [depends on your range] until hot.  Pour about 1/4 cup of batter on the griddle.  Cook until little holes appear on the surface and the cooked side of the pancake—go ahead and lift the edge to check!—is golden brown, about 1 minute on each side, if your griddle is at the proper temperature.  Slather on the butter, a few good glugs of real maple syrup, and and a heap of freshly macerated and/or fresh berries if you have them on hand.

Devour.

{Makes about sixteen 4-inch pancakes.}

[adapted ever so slightly from Melissa Hamilton & Christopher Hirsheimer’s Canal House Cooking, No. 6, 2011]

fig. f: unholy mess

fig. f: unholy mess

Keep your berry mixture simple.

Mix together whatever fresh, ripe, local berries you have on hand (as long as they’re nice and sweet—like raspberries, blueberries, black raspberries, red currants, and blackberries**).  Depending on the amount of berries, stir in a tablespoon, or two (or three, or four…) of white sugar (the basic formula we use is about one tablespoon of sugar per cup of berries).  Crush the berries a little as you stir the sugar in evenly, bruising them so that they release their juices more readily.  Don’t overdo it with the sugar, but, if you’re going to sweeten them at all, don’t underdo it either.  This berry mix should be an absolute joy to eat and it should produce a fair bit of beautiful berry syrup, too.

If you prefer, do a mixture of macerated berries and entirely fresh berries, like the combination of macerated raspberries and fresh blueberries you see in the accompanying photographs.

And if you’re a purist, go ahead and top your pancakes with the simple pleasures of fresh, raw, unsweetened berries.  We won’t judge.

But, please, while berries are at their peak—as they are right now—insist on fresh, local berries if you can—preferably ones you harvested or foraged yourself.

aj

* We prefer Cabot Creamery sour cream whenever we can get our hands on it.

** Basically, you want to avoid things like gooseberries and blackcurrants, which are essentially inedible in their raw state (at least by humans).