If your imaginary grandma looked like mine—chunky around the waist, with a vintage apron trimmed in rickrack, and no desire to ever leave the house—this apple cake could become a family heirloom. Not from your original family perhaps, but the warmer, cozier one you are presently creating with your kids’ kids.
I learned this quick-batter cake or French clafoutis in the 90s when I picked up a book with about 800 recipes called Classic Home Desserts by Richard Sax. When he said, “stick a bookmark here,” because this will become a standby, I took him literally. In fact, this recipe is so good I never tried another one in that book—my philosophy being that if you find three great recipes in a collection, that’s enough. For nearly forty years, it has been my go-to cake for fall Jewish holidays, for warm winter breakfasts topped with yogurt, and to bring to last minute brunches.
To backtrack: The real Baking Sessions have been conducted every other Sunday, over Zoom, since early Covid times. In each morning meeting, my grandaughter Piper, an 8 year-old living in Austin, Texas and I, bake a beloved pastry from a repertoire gathered over nearly forty years in the food business—as a cookbook author and ghostwriter to celebrity chefs. The impetus for these bi-weekly classes, or course, was Covid. I was looking for a way to connect from Los Angeles with my son and his family during the crisis. Her parents were looking for a way to catch a break. Plus Piper’s father Joe, her kitchen assistant and my son, is an excellent cook who grew up on these heart-tugging goodies. Piper and I have been baking together a long time. It's something we both love!
Regarding recipe selection, strict guidelines were adhered to: a recipe had to have stood the test of time (made by me too many times) and be the kind of baked good that people are haunted by. Since I am a minimalist when it comes to cooking and baking, recipes had to be efficient. Like the French, I believe that fancy cakes and technical wonders should be made by bakers in bakeries. Not those who have something else to do.
An equally important project of mine during the pandemic has been studying French—a language I have been perfecting since junior year of high school. Over the last 10 years, as I approached retirement, my passion for all things French gathered momentum. Since I finally had nothing but time, I immersed myself in travel to France, language lessons, podcasts, cinema, music, fashion, cuisine, contemporary literature, you name it. Continuing to study during Covid has been de rigueur, absolutely necessary for my sanity. In the Sunday sessions, I like to toss out a few mots (words), since the love of cuisine is so closely linked for me to France. Not to brag too much, but Piper lived in London for a few years, so visits to Paris and munching on macarons will always be embedded in her gorgeous little head.
Back to the cake: As enthusiastic as I am about this overgrown pancake, I knew it would be a challenge to drum up excitement with 8 year-old Piper. I could read her thoughts: no frosting, no sprinkles, and too much fruit. “Granny is so old she calls that a cake!” So I pitched it as a chance to practice her knife skills (nearly perfect) and an opportunity to work by hand, without too much parental intervention. She played along.
In another sign of strange times, I experienced a destabilizing moment when I went to buy apples.The produce section of the market had experienced an extreme makeover. Overnight, the sad mealy peaches and plums of late summer were banished to the back of the store. Meanwhile the front looked like a Disney cornucopia of pumpkin patches, scarecrows dangling Halloween candy we could no longer hand to children, cackling witches, and too-good-to-be-true autumn leaves. Plus every kind of heritage, chi-chi apple known to upscale Americans. I stuck with old school Granny Smiths. Their tart flavor and firm consistency are great for baking, and besides they’re named for Grannies!
French Clafoutis, simple baked desserts of fruit and pancake batter, are rarely seen on American menus these days. Considered cool in Julia Child’s day, this easy technique (traditionally made with cherries) has been tossed in the dust bin along with Jello salads.
Pommes are apples in French, and they show up everywhere. In desserts like Tarte Tatin and matched with meats like duck and veal in major plats and savory stuffings.
3 medium tart apples like Granny Smith
2 tsp lemon juice
¾ cup plus 3 Tbsp sugar
2 tsp cinnamon
1 ½ sticks butter, 6 ounces
2 eggs, lightly beaten
1 cup flour, sifted
Preheat oven to 350F. Coat a 10-in round pyrex or ceramic pie plate with butter or Pam.
Peel, core, and thinly slice apples. Toss them in a big bowl with lemon juice, 2 Tbsp sugar, and the cinnamon. Mix by hand to evenly coat apples. Dump into pie pan and evenly spread to the edges.
In a small pot, melt the butter over low heat, refraining from stirring. In about 7 minutes, white bits will appear on the surface. Carefully skim white off the top and discard. Pour the melted butter into another mixing bowl.
Gently whisk in ¾ cups of sugar. When smooth, gently stir in the eggs, and the flour until just blended. Pour batter over the apples in the pan, smoothing the top till batter spreads evenly to the edges. Sprinkle 1 Tbsp of sugar over the top.
Bake until golden and crisp, about 45 minutes. Serve warm topped with ice cream, whipped cream, creme fraiche, or plain yogurt. Delish!
