*I started writing this post about a week ago, but due to technical difficulties it’s been a while in the making.
I’d like you to think back to last Sunday, when it was considerably warmer than it is now. Do you feel that mid morning Sunday sun warm against your curtains? Can you see your coats, hats, scarves and gloves hanging empty on hangers and hooks? Can you feel a hint of spring?
As my friend, Francesca, and I walked to the market, there were rowers on a near-flat harbour, children on scooters and roller-blades and the waterfront cafés spreading out along the boardwalk. People wandered back from the markets, green market bags in one hand, coffee in the other. It was the very definition of a perfect Sunday morning.
On our way to the market I let myself think, for only a second, of spring pasta with fresh asparagus. I thought maybe winter had released her grip and we could start to think about storing our woolen jackets, unplugging the electric blankets and, of course, fresh asparagus.
Upon arrival at the market, the winter staples sat smugly in their crates, confident of their position in our kitchens for at least another month. My hopes of new asparagus dashed, Francesca and I bought winter greens: petite broccoli heads, spinach bunched roughly with an elastic band, half a savoy cabbage with a scorpion shaped core and a tall leek with leaves perfect for poking out of a market bag; you’re a proper market goer with a leek sticking out of your bag. We wore sunglasses and made summer plans for barbeques on the balcony and long, icy drinks with Pimm’s.
Then, later in the afternoon, the deep clouds rolled in, the hail started and flurries of snow hovered in the half darkness. And now, this week: snow in the city centre, the pine covered hills behind Thorndon are speckled in white and the roads resemble cookie and cream ice cream.
We still have a while to go until blossoms and tulips. I’m ok with that.
Because what this polar blast really means is hearty stews, thick soups, a dozen cups of tea a day, steamed puddings, warm bread rolls hiding meltey butter and, apple crumble cake. Thrashing storms, house-shaking thunder and slushy rain are really the only conditions in which one should eat apple crumble cake.
An apple crumble cake spiked with spices, the slight tartness of apples and the maple, caramel flavour of butter and brown sugar. This cake cum crumble cum strudel has a slight nutty texture and taste, as if made with soft chips of walnut. Instead, rolled oats slathered in a bit more butter and sugar.
Francesca made this cake using her Mum’s tried and true recipe. It was not intended for our flat, but when the snow and the hail forced us to bunker down inside we were glad to have this apple crumble cake. It is best eaten warm with yoghurt or ice cream, but it lasts for days, perfect for a lunch time baked treat.
So, forget the Pimms and new season asparagus. Tuck your trackpants into your socks; relish wearing two merinos, a hoodie and a dressing gown; pull a blanket up to your chin and simply let apple crumble cake work its winter magic.
Apple Crumble Cake
125g butter, softened
2 medium apples
1 cup sugar
1 1/2 cups flour
1tsp baking soda
25g cold butter
1/2 cup rolled oats
1/4 cup brown sugar
In a food processor put butter, apples (unpeeled), sugar and the egg. Mix briefly until the apples are roughly chopped. Sift in the dry ingredients and mix until just blended.
Pour into a 23cm baking dish lined with paper.
Clean and dry the food processor well before making the topping. Mix cold butter, oats, brown sugar and cinnamon in food processor until just mixed.
Sprinkle the topping on top of the cake.
Bake at 180°C for 40-45minutes.
N.B The topping mix will spread through the rest of the cake.