autumnal apple cake

so, in last week's post, naomi and I unknowingly wrote about exactly the same thing. we didn't know, we swear! we never quite know what the other is going to write until we publish our posts. it's one of my favorite moments of the week: hitting the 'publish' button and then immediately go read naomi's post.

anyway, goes to show how much great minds think alike, I guess. when we found out we had both written about that particular early september feeling of transition, we jokingly said we would this week both be writing about apples. so here you go, na! apple cake.

there's this cliché about the difference between cooks and bakers: cooks are intuïtive, they add a spice here and a spice there, they're going on their instincts and experience, they just throw things together: they are easygoing, go-with-the-flow types who know how to enjoy life in the kitchen and at the table. but they are messy, too. and experimenting for experimenting's sake can lead to some truly untasty food. bakers, on the other hand, never miss a beat. they follow recipes meticulously - they have to, because in a baking recipe, every little half teaspoon counts. bakers are clean, in control, and just that little bit boring. their measured way of working stands in stark contrast to the joy that is eating a good cake or pie or cookie.

like every good cliché, this one has some element of truth to it. of course, that every cliché has an element of truth is in itself the greatest cliché of all. anyway, measurements do matter. and going by taste is fun to do. but this cake proudly defeats the cliché. it was an experiment of sorts, and it worked! the other night, we had a friend 'round for dinner, and I wanted to make something apple-y for dessert. an apple crumble? yummy, but... I was in the mood for something different. and so made an apple version of nigella lawson's tried and true madeira cake recipe. it was good! it was good, people. cinnamon, apples and lemon zest. is all I'm saying.

oh, and you don't taste the nutmeg as nutmeg at all, it just brings a nice deep flavour to the cake.

do use organic butter, eggs and sugar if you can. if anything, it'll taste that much better.

autumnal apple cake

adapted from nigella lawson's 'my mother in law's madeira cake' from how to be a domestic godess.

ingredients:
2 apples
a little lemon juice
240 gr butter
200 gr sugar
the zest and juice of one lemon
3 large eggs
200 gr wheat flour
100 gr spelt flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
fresh nutmeg

preheat the oven to 170 degrees celcius. grease a tin loaf and line with baking paper.

peel and quarter two apples, cut out the cores and slice the apples into thin slices. put the slices in a bowl of water and some lemon juice, to keep the slices from turning brown. then crack on with the cake! cream the butter with the sugar and add the zest of one lemon. then, one by one, add the eggs. after each egg, add a teaspoon of flour. this helps with the stability of the batter. then add the two flours, baking powder, cinnamon, a good grating of fresh nutmeg, and a pinch of salt, then add the juice of the lemon and mix very well. put the batter in the loaf tin, and push the apple slices in the top. sprinkle with some more cinnamon and some sugar. put in the oven for about an hour and a half - but each oven is different, and each time baking a cake it is a little different. start checking after an hour.

let the cake cool down for at least 15 minutes, then enjoy!

- anne

A good start

I don’t like to admit it, but when it comes to breakfast, I can be really quite difficult. Many mornings, the thought of even a slice of toast is too much to stomach. Juice is great, fruits are great, everything else, not so great. Problem is, it can be hard to get properly going on just some fruit and juice, especially if your idiosyncrasies extend to a dislike of ripe – as in, twelve hours beyond green – bananas. So for a long time, I lived with a breakfast predicament. Until one morning, after I’d stayed over at her place, Anne made me the perfect breakfast.

It’s a simple breakfast, but it has a lot going for it. It has plenty of fibres, it has dairy, it has fruit. And it adds up to a wonderful bowl of solid morning nourishment. It is: oats, yoghurt and grated apple. (Or rather, oats, fromage frais and grated apple, but while French and all, that’s not nearly as catchy.)

The secret of this muesli lies in the grating of the apple. Chop the apple, and the textures and flavours are uneven. Grate it, and they come together perfectly. What you end up with is a bit like Bircher muesli, except it’s simpler, both to make and in terms of ingredients. The fact that the juicy and liquid ingredients far outweigh the chewy bits makes it easy to eat, but the grated apple and oats still accomplish a satisfying bite. There are no nuts that can get soggy, and no overly sweet dried fruits, yet because of the apple, it is sweet enough to require no extra sugar or honey. I’ve made this with a cute freckled Forelle pear as well, which worked too, although I still prefer a tart apple.

So whether you’re breakfast-fickle or not, make this some time. It presents in big juicy mouthfuls that make you feel you’re being good to yourself. It tastes clean and fresh, yet it comes together in a moment, and it is filling and gets you ready to go. It’s a good start.

Oats, yoghurt and grated apple (or pear)

I like eating this with fromage frais, as it is a bit thicker than yoghurt (close equivalents are fromage blanc or quark – the kind with a consistency like thick yoghurt, not the salted set type). It would work with full-fat quark or even Greek yoghurt as well, in which case a tart apple would contrast nicely with the creaminess of the dairy.

1 large, hard apple or firm pear

fromage frais or thick yoghurt

whole rolled oats

Coarsely grate the apple. You want to make sure not to lose the juices, so either grate it directly over your bowl, or if you have a box grater, get the hang of grating the apple over a chopping board and sliding it into the bowl without ever lifting the grater, so that the juices are trapped and transported inside it. Add yoghurt and oats. I tend to use more or less equal volumes of yoghurt, fruit and oats, but other proportions work too – whatever you feel like. Mix, eat. And you’re off.

- Naomi