My mother’s old house on Hillside Way had a plum tree, and it was the bane of her existence.
My grandmother planted it right in the middle of the backyard years earlier, when she lived there. I’m not sure what variety it was, but they were small, bluish-purple, and far too tart to eat.
By the end of every August, the tree was completely loaded, and any that fell had to be picked up almost immediately. Leave one on the lawn too long, and before you knew it, you had the beginnings of another tree. Hundreds of overripe plums would eventually litter the ground and begin to rot, with another batch right behind them.
There were many dramatic declarations from my mom about the misery of caring for it, from the difficult pruning to the never-ending job of picking up after them. On more than one occasion, there were tears, and I can’t say I blamed her.
As the years went by, the tree grew larger and craggier and continued producing a ridiculous amount of unwanted fruit. They had long been deemed unfit for baking—and she didn’t like them anyway—so visiting her in late summer meant hearing, in considerable detail, how the tree had ruined her life.
Suffice it to say, we all knew she hated it.
So I wasn’t particularly surprised when I visited one weekend and noticed the tree was gone. She’d quietly had it cut down, as though removing her longtime nemesis required no further discussion.
In fact, had I not noticed the big empty spot in the yard, I don’t think she would have said a peep.
Which brings me to my recent plum situation. Fortunately, mine came without the tree.
I started Googling plum recipes, looking for something simple: one bowl, basic pantry ingredients, and absolutely no baking heroics. I was not interested in rolling or rising dough, making pastry cream, or dirtying every bowl in the kitchen.
Then I found this plum cake.
The ingredient list was short, I had everything on hand, and the whole thing looked wonderfully straightforward.
I liked where this was headed.
The batter for this yellow cake is thick and dense, almost shortbread-like, and it’s just right paired with fragrant summer fruit.
The plums I had were smooth-skinned and juicy, with a mysterious, almost floral flavor, and just enough tartness to balance the sweetness.
I mean, they were practically begging to be baked into a cake.
The other great thing here is that the recipe uses a respectable amount of plums. I sliced up six of them, which was perfect.
Once baked, the fruit turns soft and jammy, with juices sinking into the buttery cake underneath. Add some whipped cream or vanilla ice cream, and you’ve got a great dessert for just about any occasion.
This is one of those cakes you keep going back to for another little sliver. It’s delicious slightly warm, but surprisingly good cold from the refrigerator the next day, especially with a mug of hot coffee.
Mostly, this was exactly what I wanted from a summer cake: simple, not too sweet, and absolutely loaded with fresh fruit.
A couple things I changed: I added a teaspoon of vanilla extract to the batter, and next time I might add some fresh orange zest too. I also used a slightly heavier hand with the cinnamon sugar on top, because I couldn’t help myself.
Here’s a link to the recipe, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. I’m already looking forward to making another one, maybe with nectarines this time.
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Have a great week! I’ll see you next Sunday with something new.