I am lucky enough to have an apple tree in my backyard. Unfortunately, it has been diagnosed with fire blight, so I think this may be its last year. The aborist says it can't be saved, which makes me want to weep. Our beloved apple tree was already misshapen from years of neglect before we bought our house, but it now additionally has broken branches and peeling bark. Overall, it looks pretty shabby. But I don’t care how it looks. I adore the fruit it bears.
The apples from my tree aren't anything like what you get at a store. They are unique and part of an age when heirloom varieties grew in abundance. I never have it sprayed, so the cores may sometimes house a happy little worm, but the meat is beautiful, organic and tastes fantastic. Our apples are crisp and delicious right off the tree while also holding up well when cooked or baked. The thought of going to buy a replacement tree makes me depressed. I like the old scruffy tree we have.
One of the best things about having an apple tree is being able to go in my own backyard to pick apples to make a cake. I have quite a weakness for apple cake, especially when the apples are crisp and sweet. So, in honor of my tree and the many apples it has bestowed upon us for apple slices, apple tarts, apple butter, and, yes, apple cakes, I'd like to share my recipe. As you'll see, the cake is full of apples, but don't be alarmed that it looks like there are more apple pieces than batter. The abundance of apples makes the cake wonderfully moist. The apples also bake nicely into the batter so they don't detract from the cakiness of the texture. With a hint of cinnamon and some toasted walnuts, it's perfect for dessert, brunch, tea, or an afternoon snack. It's also easy and quick to make.
I am still hoping for a botanical miracle that will save our tree. Maybe I'm feeling sentimental because it's dying, but I've always seen it as a sentry of sorts in our backyard, marking the passing of time: blooming in the spring, bulging with fruit in the summer, dropping golden leaves in autumn, and standing bare and empty in winter. And then it does it all over again, or at least it did.
So in honor of my apple tree, here's the recipe. I hope you like it as much as we have over the years.