Oatmeal Cake With Broiled Frosting

A quiet week, baby. The kind of week where nothing extraordinary happens but everything ordinary feels like enough. Earl read the paper on the porch. I watered the garden. The tomatoes are turning — the Cherokee Purples are blushing, darkening from green to that deep, ugly-beautiful purple that means they're close. Another week, maybe two, and I'll have the first harvest.

I went to the farmers' market Saturday morning, same as every Saturday. The peach man — his name is Curtis and he's been selling Georgia peaches at the Forsyth Market for as long as I can remember — he saved me a flat of Elbertas, the freestone kind that slip right off the pit and taste like sunshine concentrated into fruit. I bought two flats because I'm making cobbler for the church fellowship dinner and also because I can't walk past good peaches. It's a weakness. I accept it.

Miss Corrine's daughter came by this week — Sharon, from Macon, visiting for a few days. She knocked on my door and thanked me for looking after her mother. She said, "Mama talks about your cooking like it's religion." I said, "That's because it is." Sharon laughed, but I meant it. Feeding Miss Corrine isn't charity. It's communion. It's two old women sharing a meal because that's what you do — you feed the people within arm's reach, and you don't keep score.

I'm in full freezer-meal mode for Tasha. This week I made: twelve individual portions of mac and cheese, a gallon of chicken soup, two quarts of collard greens, and a pan of cornbread that I wrapped and froze in squares. My freezer looks like a bunker for the delicious apocalypse. Earl opened it looking for his ice cream and said, "Dot, there is no room for a human being's food in here." I said, "Your great-grandbaby's mother needs to eat." He said, "Tasha lives in Atlanta." I said, "And?" He closed the freezer. Wise man.

Made a simple tomato sandwich for lunch today — white bread, mayonnaise, thick-sliced Cherokee Purple, salt and pepper. The first ripe tomato from the garden. I ate it standing at the kitchen counter with the juice running down my wrist, and for about thirty seconds, the whole world was perfect.

Now go on and feed somebody.

With two flats of Curtis’s Elbertas spoken for and the peach cobbler already mapped out in my head, I needed something I could bake this week for the fellowship dinner that wouldn’t compete — something warm and humble and the kind of thing people reach for twice without quite knowing why. This oatmeal cake with broiled frosting is that cake. It’s the one I’ve been making for church dinners longer than I can remember, and it travels well, feeds a crowd, and tastes like somebody’s grandmother put real intention into it — because she did.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 16

Ingredients

1 cup old-fashioned rolled oats
1 1/4 cups boiling water
1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup packed light brown sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon salt
For the Broiled Frosting:
1/4 cup unsalted butter, melted
2/3 cup packed light brown sugar
1/4 cup evaporated milk
1 cup sweetened shredded coconut
1/2 cup chopped pecans
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Instructions

Soak the oats. Place the rolled oats in a medium bowl and pour the boiling water over them. Stir briefly, then let stand for 20 minutes until the oats have absorbed the water and cooled slightly.
Preheat and prep. Heat your oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x13-inch baking pan and lightly flour it, tapping out any excess.
Cream butter and sugars. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter with the granulated sugar and brown sugar on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Mix in the vanilla.
Combine wet and dry. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt. Add the flour mixture to the butter mixture and stir until just combined. Fold in the soaked oats until the batter is uniform.
Bake the cake. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and spread evenly. Bake for 33–38 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean and the top is golden brown.
Make the frosting. While the cake is in its last few minutes of baking, stir together the melted butter, brown sugar, evaporated milk, shredded coconut, pecans, and vanilla in a medium bowl until well combined.
Broil the topping. Remove the cake from the oven and switch the oven to broil. Spread the frosting mixture evenly over the hot cake. Place under the broiler 4–5 inches from the heat and broil for 2–3 minutes, watching closely, until the frosting is bubbling and the coconut is toasted to a deep golden brown. Do not walk away — it can go from golden to burned in under a minute.
Cool before cutting. Let the cake cool in the pan on a wire rack for at least 20 minutes before slicing. It cuts cleanly when it’s had a chance to set.

Nutrition (per serving)

Oatmeal Cake With Broiled Frosting — The Kind of Cake You Take to Church