The cherry on top

Technically, this is the last chapter of the cake book, and bears all aspects of a respectable last chapter.  The text is rich with memories, wisdom about coming full circle, and wishes for the future.  But the epilogue remains, as does one more cake.

The penultimate cake was a Michigan Sour Cherry Pudding Cake.  There were two issues with this cake: first, you'll remember my less-than-fond feelings towards cherries; and second, I don't have access to Michigan cherries.  Or sour cherries, for that matter.  So I grudgingly bought the dark cherries available to me at the Farmer's Market, pitted 3 cups, and set about making my DeKalb Farmer's Market Dark Cherry Pudding Cake with little enthusiasm.

Thankfully, aside from the pitting of the cherries, the cake was extremely easy to make, and was actually baked in a pie plate instead of a cake pan.  Any recipe that requires me to bring out my mom's old brown Pyrex glass pie plate earns points in my book, cherries or no cherries.  I have accumulated several pie plates, from cheap metal ones that never cook quite right to an oversized, thick, fancy, maroon ceramic Longaberger pie plate my grandmother got me for Christmas that promises to bake the best pies ever.  I've used all of them, particularly for Thanksgiving, when I am assigned the role of Pie Baker Extraordinaire.  And I will say that that Longaberger one is quite lovely and the only plate tough enough to handle my massive apple pies.  But if I'm only making one pie, my go-to plate is that old brown Pyrex plate.  It was the plate my mom used to make my grandmother's pecan pie on Thanksgiving, and the only plate (as well as the only recipe) I will use for pecan pie to this day.  I also vividly remember eating my mom's strawberry pie from that plate on summer evenings, scraping the last of the crust and gooey filling from the bottom of the cold plate.  I swear that strawberry pastry is made of magic.  I've made it once or twice, and Maureen has requested it repeatedly.  I have yet to make one this year, but have promised that the first dessert I make upon completion of this cake marathon will be the strawberry pie.  I will use my Pyrex plate, we will enjoy giant slices over an episode of Bones, and I will save one last piece to eat the following evening right out of the pie plate.

I hoped my treasured pie plate would bring a little luck to this cake, because I was unconvinced of its ability to actually become a cake while examining its pre-oven state.  It was essentially cherry halves floating in a puddle of egg and milk.  But, in the oven the cherry soup went, and off I went to make good use of the 50 minutes I had while it baked to clean my horribly messy apartment so as not to be embarrassed when guests arrived for Cake and Bones.  When the timer went off, I returned to a puffy, golden heap of cherries.  I texted Maureen to tell her we probably would not enjoy this cake.

I am pleased to admit, however, that I was completely wrong.  The cake was more like thick vanilla custard topped with baked cherries.  Maybe it was the magic of the pie plate, maybe it was the perfect combination of ingredients, or maybe cherries are just starting to grow on me, but this cake was good.  Maureen was also surprised to find she enjoyed it, but suggested trying it with other fruit.  In fact, upon reading the intro to this cake, Dr. R does say it can be made with peaches, plums, blueberries, or almost any other fruit that suits your fancy.  I think blueberries would be fantastic.  Next time.

The other detail I was pleased to read in the intro to this cake was that it is made to serve 6.  Because Tim, Maureen, Chris, and I ate all but one piece.  I felt less guilty about the amount we had devoured.

This cake, like my mom's strawberry pie, is perfect for summer: served cold, slightly creamy, and full of bright, juicy summer fruit, a fantastic complement to a hot late summer night.  And it's so simple!  I vow next summer to try it with every beautiful, delicious summer fruit I can get my hands on.

This weekend brings the last cake.  I am feeling quite sad over it, as is everyone else.  Like I won't continue to bake when I'm done or something.  I can't believe I've done this for a whole year.  I suppose I should start considering my deep thoughts for my final post.  And probably stock up on tissues.