Almond plum cake

 
It's raining peaches and nectarines and plums these days.  Having a few of the latter on hand, and some ground almonds, I decided to make a little afternoon cake.  Delicious: moist, fruity, fragrant, tender.  I highly recommend.  And it dirties only one bowl and one pan, because who wants to make elaborate things and clean up lots of stuff in August?  Yeah, me too.

I've made this twice, with all kinds of plums.  For the version in the photos, I used some large halved plums (visible), some small halved plums (swallowed up by the batter), and some slices of large plums (also swallowed up by the batter).  Anything will work; if the fruit gets engulfed by the batter, it just forms a juicy, colorful surprise in the middle of the cake.  Other kinds of fruit would probably work too, although there's something really nice about the way plums retain their tartness even when they become incredibly sweet.  The plums don't need to be fully ripe.

Almond plum cake  (loosely adapted from this recipe)

1/2 cup almond flour (I used Trader Joe's)
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1 tsp. baking powder
pinch of salt
4 tbsp. butter, at room temperature
3/4 cup granulated sugar (I used evaporated cane juice*)
2 large humane eggs**
1/2 tsp. almond extract
plums, of any kind, neither rock hard nor overly soft

Preheat the oven to 350º with a rack in the middle.  In a medium bowl, beat the butter with the sugar until fluffy, a few minutes.  It will still look quite granulated.  Add the eggs one at a time and beat well, then add the extract (you can use vanilla if you don't have almond extract, or just leave it out entirely).

Into the bowl, sift the dry ingredients.  I do this by setting a strainer over the bowl, adding the flours, baking powder, and salt to the strainer, tapping it to sift everything into the bowl, and dumping the last few larger bits into the bowl as well (those pieces of almond are just fine—the point is to mix and fluff, not to separate out the coarser pieces).  Beat or stir until just combined.

Pour batter into an 8" pan.  (You don't need to grease it, but I would put parchment on the bottom unless it's non-stick.)  Arrange the plums on top, any way you like, and bake until the top is lightly golden brown all over and a toothpick comes out clean (but don't stick it through a juicy plum!).  Depending on your oven and your pan, this will probably take between 30 and 50 minutes.

Serve with something creamy, if you like—whipped cream, ice cream, or crème fraîche—or just gobble it up by itself.  And save a piece for breakfast.

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* No healthier, just larger crystals.  If you're using granulated sugar or superfine sugar, I'd use about 1 tbsp. less than 3/4 cup.

* I'm making an effort to buy only pasture-raised eggs, where the hens actually run around and eat grass and bugs all day.  I buy from Vital Farms, which are available at Whole Foods all over.  I encourage you to do the same.  Some local farms are just as good; many are not.  Most of the organic eggs on store shelves are not.

Sorrel and spinach, lightly creamed, not eaten

I have conflicted feelings about farm-fresh organic produce.  It's delicious, but so darn free of pesticides.

Tonight I made a lovely dish of greens, and was looking forward not only to eating it but to blogging about it, because I've never cooked with sorrel before and it's a tart, lemony, herby, welcome surprise. I sautéed a shallot and a few cloves of garlic in some butter, then added the chopped spinach and sorrel, and then added a touch of cream and a bit more butter to make it delicious but not too heavy. Wonderful.

But you see, there was un escargot dans l'oseille. I saw it as I was cleaning it, and set it aside as I might set aside a fly in lettuce, declining to use the leaves directly surrounding it.  But as I was preparing the spaghetti, the snail came out of its shell and began to move.  And it slid all over a leaf, glistening with slime in the bright kitchen light.  And my stomach turned.

I had rinsed the sorrel, one leaf at a time.  But six days in the fridge with a slimy little snail oozing all over it?  I just couldn't do it.  And since A. didn't protest, I think he had also lost his appetite.  I threw it out, and deposited the snail in the flower bed outside the building.

So no photo, no recipe, no tasting notes.  :(  Next time!

Dinner for 30!

This past weekend A. and I had a party, for 30.  I did a lot of the cooking.   Yes, it was a bit hectic.  But it was also a lot of fun.

The key to catering your own party is to plan carefully and choose recipes wisely, so that you can finish everything in good time and avoid exhaustion (allowing you to enjoy the preparations and the party itself).  Last year I was a bit insane busy with last-minute cooking and the party ended up being somewhat of a blur, but this year things were more under control, and by the time the drinking started I was relaxed and rested and ready.

(Can I talk about cooking on this blog?  This isn't by any means a food blog, but it would feel odd to leave it out since I love to cook and do so often.  Anyway, dear reader, consider yourself warned.)

Last year I learned a few lessons.  (1) When people have been drinking and eating appetizers for an hour, they are not very hungry and eat only very small servings of the main courses.  (2) Hardly anyone actually wants a dinner roll with dinner.  (3) Lettuce wilts easily; for a crowd, stick with sturdier vegetables.  (4) The limiting factor is the fridge, followed by the oven.

This year's menu (there was a Scottish and French theme going on):

Gruyère gougères
Smoked salmon canapés
Endive spears with blue cheese

Poached salmon*
Rumbledethumps*
Caramelized onion and cauliflower tart
Asparagus and tomato salad
Butter and radish tartines

Cake*
Almond shortbread cookies

*I didn't make these

I think the food was good overall; it was definitely better than last year.  The highlights were the gougères, the tart, and the tartines.  And I learned more lessons!  This year's takeaway: (1) Completely avoid recipes that require last-minute fine-tuning.  The endive and blue cheese things were lovely when I tested them in small batches, but not quite perfect when I threw together a very large batch in a bit of a hurry.  (2) Purchased cake just doesn't compare to homemade.  (3) Most people want bread with their dinner if you put enough butter and sea salt on it.  And sliced radishes make it nice and pretty.  (4)  Buy less beer, and more white wine.  I'm surprised by this, but the evidence was irrefutable!  (5)  Have a backup bartender.  They have a tendency to get sick the day of the event and cancel on you, forcing you to hire the first person who answers your desperate last-minute craigslist plea, who will turn out to be very sweet and cooperative, but who will also ask you how to make a gin-and-tonic, thus letting you know that they do not in fact have any bartending experience.

It was fun though!  Really.