Almond Apricot Coffee Cake

Martin Luther King Jr. Day, and the library hosted the annual reading in person for the first time in two years. The auditorium was full. The masks were fewer. The "Letter from Birmingham Jail" was read by a young librarian named Marcus who has the voice of a preacher and the bearing of a scholar and who read the words with the conviction of a man who believes that libraries are the front line of every moral argument. I stood in the back and I wept — not for the letter, though the letter deserves tears, but for the gathering, for the return of the gathering, for the room full of people who came to hear words that matter and who sat together and listened and were changed.

Carrie attended the reading. She sat in the front row, as James did three years ago, and she listened with the particular stillness that Carrie brings to important things: not the stillness of passivity but the stillness of absorption, the stillness of a woman who is taking something in and who will not speak until the taking-in is complete.

Afterward she said, "Mom, I want to teach." Not "I want to be a teacher" — "I want to teach." The distinction matters. The wanting is not about the profession. It is about the act. The act of putting words in front of people and watching the words change them. The act of standing in a room and reading something that matters and watching the room become different because the words were spoken. Teaching. The thing I have been doing in my kitchen for six years, and the thing Mama did in the parsonage for decades, and the thing Reverend James did from the pulpit for forty years. Teaching. The family business.

I made Mama's buttermilk biscuits — the Sunday ritual, the teaching recipe, the dish that I learned from watching and that Carrie learned from watching and that will be learned by the next generation from watching, because some things cannot be taught with words. They can only be taught with hands.

After a morning like that one—Marcus’s voice filling the auditorium, Carrie sitting still and absorbing everything, the room full of people choosing to be changed—the only thing I wanted to do was stand at the counter and bake something that required my hands to remember what my mind had learned from watching Mama. This almond apricot coffee cake is that recipe for me: the one I learned by standing beside her on Sunday mornings, the one I have made in every kitchen I’ve lived in since, and the one I will teach Carrie not by explaining it but by letting her watch and then letting her do.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 40 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 12

Ingredients

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup cold unsalted butter, cut into small cubes
1 cup buttermilk
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon pure almond extract
3/4 cup apricot preserves
1/2 cup sliced almonds
2 tablespoons brown sugar

Instructions

Preheat and prepare. Heat oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x13-inch baking pan or a 9-inch round springform pan and set aside.
Make the base. In a large bowl, whisk together flour, granulated sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Add the cold butter and work it in with your fingertips until the mixture resembles coarse, uneven crumbs—some pieces slightly larger than others. This is the part that teaches itself in your hands.
Add the wet ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together buttermilk, eggs, and almond extract. Pour the wet mixture into the flour mixture and stir gently until just combined. Do not overmix; a few streaks are fine.
Layer the batter. Spread about two-thirds of the batter evenly into the prepared pan. Spoon the apricot preserves over the batter in an even layer, leaving a small border around the edges. Drop the remaining batter in spoonfuls over the preserves—it won’t cover completely, and that’s exactly right.
Add the topping. In a small bowl, toss the sliced almonds with the brown sugar. Scatter the mixture evenly over the top of the batter.
Bake. Bake for 38 to 42 minutes, until the top is golden, the edges pull from the pan, and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Let cool in the pan for at least 15 minutes before slicing.

Nutrition (per serving)

Almond Apricot Coffee Cake — The Recipe That Teaches Itself