Keep Your Soul, AND Eat Cake.

Do you dance in the kitchen when you’re baking? I do. That’s why I’m going to live so long. At least…so long as I don’t get whip-lash, or accidentally chop a finger off. But seriously. I drop it like it’s hot.

Not literally.

No baked goods were harmed in the making of…them…yeah.

So there’s this BBQ restaurant across the bay from my house that has this apple cake, see. And this apple cake, I would sell my soul for. Or, at the very least, pay the $2.95 they ask for. It comes out warm and with a scoop of vanilla ice cream for another 95 cents. I’m not quite sure what got me on this trail, but once I get a whiff of something, I don’t stop till I’ve recreated it, or improved upon it. Even if I have to make it three times. In one day.

That’s determination, people.

On the upside, I burned some calories while flinging myself around the kitchen.

Hey. I just made you. And this is crazy. But here’s my recipe. So blog me, maybe.

The first two times I baked the cake, I followed a recipe for “Best Apple Cake” I found online. The only differences I made were to half the recipe, bake it in a 9″x5″ loaf pan, and add a little salt and liquid. I added the liquid at the end the first time, because the cake was literally the consistency of streusel. Once out of the oven, it was gorgeous, fragrant and begging to be tested. A corner of the cake was perfectly baked, moist and spicy. 20 minutes later, it betrayed me, the center completely deflating to a gooey mass of caramelized apples and cake batter. Now. Don’t get me wrong. Cake goo is awesome heated and eaten with ice cream. But I wanted cake.

The second attempt seemed to go a little better. I didn’t mound apples on top, and added a bit of baking powder. Once out of the oven, she courted me with her cinnamon wiles. 30 minutes later, she took her heels off, removed her makeup and unzipped her girder. The tramp fell in the middle like a recently babiless womb.

But I refused to give up. And I was listening to the Numa Song.

I went back and researched a bit of the reviews on the original recipe and found (much to my surprise and dismay) that the reviewers absolutely loved the recipe…after they made this or that many changes. Awesome. Thanks for the 5-star, on-the-face rating.

Third and final attempt (for the day). I added an egg white, replaced some of the white flour, added some salt, changed up the mixing method and used a 9″ round cake pan.


Perfectly risen, moist, appley, seasoned, spicy…ugh! No longer am I chained to Kojack’s sinister apple cake, for I can now make my own!


1 cup Flour

1/2 cup Whole wheat flour

1/2 teaspoon Baking soda

1/2 teaspoon Salt

1 teaspoon Cinnamon

1 pinch each of Mace and Cloves

1 cup Sugar

1/2 cup Oil

1 Egg

1 Egg white

1/4 cup Applesauce (unsweetened. This doesn’t need anymore sugar.)

1/2 cup chopped Apples (I used Golden Delicious…old FCI habits die hard…or not at all.)

1. Pre-heat the oven to 350, and spray a 9″ round cake pan

2. Combine all of the dry ingredients, up to the spices, in a small-ish bowl.

3. In a larger bowl combine the sugar, egg, and white and beat with a whisk until thickened and relatively homogenous.

4. Add the oil to the egg mixture and beat with the whisk until emulsified.

5. Add the applesauce and stir to combine.

6. Dump (I got tired of typing “add”…which I just did again.) the dry ingredients and apples all at once into the wet and fold to combine.

7. Transfer to the prepared pan and sprinkle the top with a tablespoon or two of sugar, and bake for about 30 minutes, or until it passes the toothpick test.

Keep your soul, kid. This one’s on me.


3 thoughts on “Keep Your Soul, AND Eat Cake.

  1. Wow, some of that imagery is going to give me nightmares…

    Anyway, I felt the need to share one thing you left out: dancing in the kitchen is awesome, but you must do so responsibly! I, for instance, am a very responsible kitchen-dancer. I bake and dance and everyone’s happy. My husband, however, is not. In the past year, he’s sliced his fingers open THREE. TIMES. That’s three emergency room visits, people! And I KNOW he was dancing. He says no, just had some music on, and the knife went crazy and tried to steal his pinky – but I know the truth.


    ……..I feel like that’s a weird way to end a comment……


    • Hah! Agreed. I’m proud to say I’ve never danced while baking AND drinking. And, I figure in y martial arts training when dancing with a knife. Also, does it count if I say I’m practicing Egyptian knife dancing? We’ll say yes.

      Sent from my iPhone

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