By Summer has arrived fully and without apology. The heat in Prattville in June is the real kind, not the teasing warmth of May but the thick heavy air that sits on your shoulders when you walk from your car to the door. I have been running the ceiling fan all night and keeping cold brew coffee in a jar in the refrigerator and wearing as little as professionally reasonable.
Biscuit has positioned himself in front of every air conditioning vent in the apartment in rotation, making a slow circuit of the rooms throughout the day. He is not suffering but he wants me to know he is monitoring the situation.
I made a big summer salad this week that I ate for most of my lunches: corn cut fresh from three ears I grilled outside on the small grill I own but almost never use, black beans, avocado, red onion, cherry tomatoes, cilantro, and a lime vinaigrette. Cold and bright and the corn had that charred sweetness you only get from actual heat on actual corn. I have been eating vegetables more intentionally this summer. Not in a restrictive way, just in a this is what is growing right now and it is good way.
Sunday at Gloria's we made banana pudding again because it is summer and banana pudding belongs to summer the way sweet tea belongs to a porch. James had eaten through my last batch by the third day and requested another. I made a double batch this time. He was satisfied.
My sister from another foster placement, DeAnna, messaged me this week for the first time in over a year. We were in the same group home when I was thirteen. She is living in Montgomery now and wants to get lunch. I said yes. Some connections from before Gloria are worth preserving.
James finished the banana pudding in three days and I made a double batch without hesitation — that is just what summer asks of you sometimes. When I was thinking about what else belongs in this season of big salads and front porches and people reaching back out across years of silence, I kept coming back to something warm and quietly sweet, the kind of dessert that does not require explanation. This caramel pudding cake is that thing: it makes its own sauce as it bakes, which still feels like a small miracle every time, and it is the sort of recipe you bring to a lunch with someone you haven’t seen in over a year and it says everything you need it to say.
Caramel Pudding Cake
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 55 minutes | Servings: 9
Ingredients
- 1 cup all-purpose flour
- 3/4 cup granulated sugar, divided
- 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 cup whole milk
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 3/4 cup packed brown sugar
- 1 3/4 cups hot water
- Vanilla ice cream or whipped cream, for serving (optional)
Instructions
- Preheat oven. Heat your oven to 350°F. Lightly grease an 8x8-inch baking dish and set aside.
- Make the batter. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, 1/2 cup of the granulated sugar, baking powder, and salt. Stir in the milk, melted butter, and vanilla until a smooth, thick batter forms. Spread evenly into the prepared baking dish.
- Layer the topping. In a small bowl, combine the brown sugar and the remaining 1/4 cup granulated sugar. Sprinkle this mixture evenly over the batter — do not stir.
- Add the water. Carefully pour the hot water over the entire surface of the pan. Do not stir. It will look wrong. Trust it.
- Bake. Bake for 35 to 40 minutes, until the top is set and golden and a caramel sauce has formed beneath the cake layer. The center should no longer be jiggly.
- Rest and serve. Let the cake rest for 10 minutes before scooping. Serve warm, spooning the caramel sauce from the bottom of the pan over each portion. Top with vanilla ice cream or whipped cream if desired.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 240 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 3g | Carbs: 52g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 135mg