But a World in You: Norwegian Apple Cake

You can kiss your family and friends good-bye and put miles between you, but at the same time you carry them with you in your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not just live in a world but a world lives in you.
- Frederick Buechner, Telling the Truth

Today I walked along the beach with Rangitoto to my left. Glittering water beneath a summer sun spread wide between islands and shorelines. And as my heels sunk into the sand with each wave that washed away my footing, I thought about all the salty ocean water that has romanced me.



Hawaiian waves were the first, faced in the safe grasp of my father or mother when my legs were still too wobbly and chunky, but even long after my baby fat was shed, my family would make our returns to Hawaii. Dad and I would slip out the back door together and cross the field to soft white sand and cool water for our early morning swim.

Years later I met the turquoise blue waters of the Mediterranean as they lapped against the stone wall on which I sat with an I "heart" Naxos sticker in my purse. Friends and I shared moments of awe and wonder from high on a ferry deck as we journeyed back to Athens, dark blue starry sky closing in on an orange sun that slipped beyond the horizon. Hundred Islands in the Philippines; Pacific waves that crash with Costa Rican flair; late night Mexican sand lit by beach fires and glowing cigars. Beaches along the Santa Barbara coast that acquired terms of endearment such as "good ol'" and "dear" refreshed my body and spirit, whether alone or bonding with new friends. There's homey Puget Sound, and there's the orange-lily-speckled Ibaraki coastline too.

I carry these images and memories in my heart, which tugs no less for the people with whom I shared each season than for the individual shorelines. Pebbles, shattered shells, black sand, and speckled white: I find pleasure in each circumstance and value in each face.

This little world living inside me, this world that Buechner speaks of, is indeed strongly comprised of people and places but it would not be complete without tastes. The taste of Norway on Christmas morning, India through friends' curries scooped up in wet orange fingers, Washington experienced in the sweetest of summer's berries and fall's apples.

And it's not all about geographical locations. It's about smelling coffee in the kitchen in the morning and thinking of my dad's espresso machine, eating leftover pear clafoutis with plain yogurt for breakfast and knowing my mother would have made extra for the exact same purpose, and it's about sitting down to a dinner without any vegetables in sight and wondering where the rest of the meal is. It's a marvel how much these stomach habits influence the psyche. Their disruption can depress, and their presence can comfort, restore, and inspire.

So it was that I was inspired in the making of this Norwegian Apple Cake. I was comforted in the process of halving crisp apples and turning their exposed pale faces down on the cutting board to be diced and swept into a pile on the side. I was restored in biting into something light and sweet and simple tasting that my own hands had made.

You see, I rarely spend time in the kitchen these days. And with that I have to say I miss it. I miss meal-planning and grocery shopping and knowing exactly what's going into my body. I miss the art and therapy and practicality of it all. But, in turn, I'm so grateful for the hospitality available to me in this season and will feel forever blessed by those who have opened their homes so freely to me.

Thus we return to the cake. (Sorry, this is what happens when I go too long without visiting this blog -- my fingers run away with me.) Mainly, what I'm wanting to say is that this cake was lovely. It puffed up airily in the oven and then settled into itself for a thin eggy inside and lightly crunchy top. The apples are the structure of the cake because the batter is thick and minimal in ratio, but if you use the back of a spatula it will spread out well enough in the bottom of your pan and all come together in the heat of the oven.





My accompaniment to this cake was a barely sweetened cardamom whipped cream. I wanted to emphasis the Nordic origin of the cake since it was being served at an international dinner and knew the warming presence of cardamom (so reminiscent of my grandmother's Christmas cookies) would pair well with apple. I got generous compliments on both and will be making this cake again. It's just the sort of thing that can cross over into breakfast the next day, like a proper fruit-filled crisp (or the aforementioned clafoutis).

I found the recipe on a brilliant food blog called Everybody Likes Sandwiches, which features a promising looking coconut bread recipe in the same post. And I must include the blog she got the original recipe for Norwegian Apple Cake from, as it is equally brilliant and lovely: Bunny Pie.

Recipe link: Norwegian Apple Cake.

"In the Bag" Event: The Best Orange Cake with Even Better Company

I dumped my bags on my unmade bed, unloaded my groceries in the kitchen, and popped open my computer when I got home today. So, here I sit in an otherwise empty room listening to songs rise out of my lap top's speakers, songs that I want to commit to memory and hold fast to as a picture of this past weekend.

I got to spend Saturday and half of today with people I love dearly. If I were to name the college friends I plan on sticking around Facebook for after college, who I would move out of the country to room with in a little European flat, who I want to keep my drawers stocked with stationary for, knowing that a letter sent through the mail is worth the extra time and postage to try and communicate my sincerity, and who, right now, bring happiness by simply snuggling on a couch together, arms intertwined and legs stretched across each other, these would be a good number of them.

I have been blessed by many wonderful friendships in college, but not many have manifested themselves in a cohesive group like this one. I love you, girls.

One of us is going off to Spain in a couple weeks (not me, not yet), and so we got together to wish her well in the coming year. Plenty of desserts were present, as we threw a party for the fact that she is deserting us, and the Orange Cake I made last spring was requested. I gladly obliged.

This cake is so enjoyable to make because the ingredients are simple and pure, and as the whole oranges cook for two hours, they release a sweet citrus fragrance that fills the air.

As it so happens, today is the first birthday of this wee blog. One Hungry Soul is turning one! So the presentation of this cake is also in memory of the day I started exploring the world of food through a camera lens and connecting with like-minded cooks and bakers. You are all brilliant. Thank you so much for introducing yourselves to me and sharing in this journey. Getting to know you through your comments and/or your blogs has enriched my own experiences in the kitchen and in life.

My previous Orange Cake post is here. There is also a link to it on my recipe index. Both places link back to the original recipe, which I have not significantly altered, but if you want to go directly to it click here (a more detailed description is available here).

My notes:
[Nigella Lawson is one of my heroes in the kitchen. I am indebted to her for the brilliance of this cake as I submit it to The Real Epicurean's "In The Bag" seasonal food blogging event.

Previously, I used almond meal, but it is not the cheapest thing to come by where I live, so I finely ground almonds in small batches in the blender this time, making sure not to let them turn to a paste. I didn't even make sure they were blanched, just using the slivered ones, which lent a more rustic aesthetic to the cake.

While Nigella used clementines in the original, two oranges (375 g. or 1 lb.) are a great substitute. I used Cara Caras, which made the color of the cake darker. And because I had difficulty getting it out of the pan and cracked the cake along the way, it worked out perfectly to arrange some candied orange slices on top. A dollop of crème fraîche went in the middle of my asymmetrical "flower" and more in a bowl on the side to accompany deliciously big slices.]


Please indulge me as I post a few more pictures of my time in the past two days. Granted, they are of food, but the sweetest part of those hours was the company. Including getting to share in some Norwegian company and taste my first Kringla, a Norwegian bread-like cookie (I'm still researching it, so please pass on any information or recipes you have because it hasn't been part of my family's recipe pile, and I'd love to include it.)


Update: And here is the site for the roundup of all the delicious recipes submitted to In the Bag!