Rainy Day Golden Apple Cake

On Sunday I was itching to bake a cake for a late evening treat. Ever since I'd purchased my long-coveted set of 5" cake pans, I've been constantly thinking of little cakes that I can bake: cakes appropriate for two, cakes that take advantage of what I have laying around the house, or bending-the-rules experimental cakes.

I figure if it's really bad, throwing away a small cake is a much easier sadness to confront.

Though I do my best to avoid baking things that people choke down politely, discreetly dispose of in a napkin or simply spit out in revulsion, this was my first true attempt at making a cake from scratch-scratch, my first attempt at using my head instead of a recipe to bake exactly the cake I wanted at that moment.

And the cake I wanted was an apple cake. One that would be
1) Not too sweet
2) Moist
3) Simple

Bowl at the ready, butter softened on the counter, measuring cups eager for the flour jar, I forged ahead...

Rainy Day Golden Apple Cake
From the head of yours truly*

Butter a single 5" round cake pan and press in a circle of parchment paper
Oven: 350 degrees

Thinly slice one medium-sized Golden Delicious apple and lay the slices in the bottom of the pan, overlapping in a circular pattern.
Dot with 1 tbsp. diced unsalted butter and 1/2 tsp. light brown sugar.
Cream 3 tbsp. softened unsalted butter with 1/4 cup + 1 tbsp. packed light brown sugar until smooth.
In a separate bowl thoroughly fork or whisk 2 eggs, 1/8 c. heavy cream, and 1/2 tsp. vanilla.
Gently stir most of it into the butter-sugar mixture. Why most of it? At the last second it seemed that much liquid would be too much, so I left off a little. That said, add it all if you'd like. I doubt it will cause much, if any, difference.
Once incorporated, stir in the zest of 1 medium lemon.
Sift 1/2 c. + 1 tbsp. all-purpose flour with 1/4 tsp. baking powder and a pinch of salt. Stir into the wet ingredients until you no longer see any of the dry.
Pour the batter on top of the apple layer and bake for 30 minutes or until the toothpick test comes back clean.
Let cool in the pan for 5 minutes, then gently slide a knife between the cake and the pan. Turn the cake out onto a rack to cool completely.

Later that night, enlisting the taste buds of my courageous boyfriend, we each took a small wedge, placed them in ramekins and drizzled heavy cream over the top and sides, letting it pool in the bottom of the dish.



I took a bite.
It was
1) Not too sweet
2) Moist
3) Simple
4) Really really good

The cream added a perfectly rich silkiness and brought out the vanilla. Too much vanilla, in the words of my boyfriend, and that night I was in agreement.

But, now I'm not so sure.

Even though it was a small cake, we still had a little less than half of it left last night. It had been a bad day, a cake-needing kind of day (though I could make a strong argument that everyday is a good day to have cake), so when I got home I cut a wedge and ate it right there, standing over the table.

The vanilla flavor had developed into an almost boozy intensity and it was brilliant. Still moist, not quite as simple, but my if it was not comfort in cake form.
Later on we finished it off politely, in a dish and drizzled with cream.

As to why I decided to call it the Rainy Day Golden Apple Cake? I'm not really sure. Sunday it rained and yesterday it rained and on both days the cake was there, bite after bite, reminding me that even the smallest successes can feel (and taste!) incredible.

*Any resemblance to recipes by those living or dead is coincidental, though most likely unavoidable. There's only so much you can do with butter, sugar, flour, and eggs if you want to be able to eat the finished product.