Plum Poppy Seed Cake

March and the first crocuses on the strip of grass outside our building. They're the kind of defiant thing March does—come up through the frozen ground before the weather gives them any reason to—and I always stop to look at them. Liam stops too. He stopped on the way to the car on Wednesday and looked at the purple crocuses for a full thirty seconds, which at eleven months is significant botanical attention. I told him what they were. He said "ba." Possibly that's crocus in Liamese.

Three weeks until he's one. I've been baking test cakes on the weekends—small ones, the batter divided into ramekins—refining the chocolate cake recipe. The first test was too dense. The second was better. Third iteration on Sunday used buttermilk and it was the one: tender crumb, deep chocolate, the kind you can eat without frosting. Sean ate three ramekins over the weekend and has stopped asking what the tests are for because he knows what they are and the answer is continued cake, which is acceptable to him.

The cooking class finished this week. Six Saturdays, and I know how to make five things I didn't know how to make before, and I know one new technique—the spice tempering—that's changed how I cook Indian food entirely. Priya and I agreed to do the class again in the fall, a different cuisine. She suggested Thai. I said yes. It turns out having a person to eat lunch with who also wants to learn things is one of the better parts of this job, which already has a lot of good parts even on the bad days.

The buttermilk chocolate cake is for Liam’s birthday — that one belongs to him. But all those weekend test sessions left me thinking about what makes a cake worth repeating, and this plum poppy seed cake is the other answer I landed on: a similar tender crumb, fruit that softens and deepens in the oven, the kind of thing you’d bring to a cooking class on the last Saturday and have it go before you could cut a second slice. Sean has already asked when I’m making it again, which is how I know it passed.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 50 min | Total Time: 1 hr 10 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp fine salt
2 tbsp poppy seeds
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs, room temperature
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
1/2 cup sour cream
1 tbsp fresh lemon juice
1 tsp lemon zest
4–5 medium plums, pitted and cut into 1/4-inch slices
2 tbsp light brown sugar
1/4 tsp ground cinnamon
Powdered sugar for dusting (optional)

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Heat oven to 350°F. Grease a 9-inch round cake pan and line the bottom with parchment paper.
Mix dry ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and poppy seeds. Set aside.
Cream butter and sugar. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter and granulated sugar with an electric mixer on medium-high until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes.
Add eggs and flavoring. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each. Mix in the vanilla extract, lemon juice, and lemon zest.
Combine wet and dry. Reduce mixer speed to low. Add the flour mixture in three additions, alternating with the sour cream in two additions (flour—sour cream—flour—sour cream—flour). Mix only until just combined after each addition; do not overmix.
Fill the pan. Spread the batter evenly into the prepared pan. Arrange the plum slices in overlapping concentric circles over the top, pressing them in slightly.
Add the topping. Stir together the brown sugar and cinnamon and sprinkle evenly over the plum slices.
Bake. Bake for 45–52 minutes, until the top is deep golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out with only moist crumbs. If the edges brown quickly, tent loosely with foil for the last 10 minutes.
Cool and serve. Let the cake cool in the pan for 15 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack. Dust with powdered sugar just before serving if desired. Serve slightly warm or at room temperature.

Nutrition (per serving)

Plum Poppy Seed Cake — The One You Make Again