Not resting properly over the year has started showing its first symptoms. Dozy, willing to nap for an hour or two whenever possible, sapped, with no will power and nothing else to do, I decided to do a quick shopping session, hoping it would break routine. When I returned, landed directly on my revolving chair, started staring at a blank writing screen on my PC. I just had to write something to break the boredom that had started itching from within. The day had to become more worthwhile. Then I remembered.
I had pitted ripe to overripe plums not a whole month ago. Unsurprisingly, whipping up some quick cake dissolved the feel of boredom and cheered me up. In turn, that served me to cheer someone up as well! It was like the perfect day for a plum cake because I miraculously had the necessary ingredients — usually something is always missing!
The plums were extremely sweet — melted caramel sweet –, so putting far less sugar than normal seemed a logical step to make. When I scattered lots of plums than usual, lots of bluish violet nectar started oozing from within the mixture. Heavenly hue! I felt little sorry for “wasting” the juice; but come on! I was making a cake.
No eggs. Just sparkling water, flour, baking powder, and because I didn’t want to screw up I had decided not to put any other aroma except for vanilla while baking. And, since the cake would have resulted with higher amount of moisture from the sugar and all the fruity goodness, putting less oil than usual was another logical step.
Irresistible aroma. Just you, surrounded in baking fruit, and memories emerging from early age. It was like making an express jam, which was then decided it should stud a cake. It was emotions.
I gave it the name of “Sunday Memories.” Draft from the kitchen window forced the air absorbed in plums to spread throughout the house into a gust, like when you first enter a bakery, and into the vicinity. The smell wonderful. The cake too. I triple-tasted it — when hot, warm, and cold. Whether the cake was hungry for some dusting sugar, or I was, I still tried to experiment by putting a powdered sugar on one piece, and powdered rum sugar on another. It looked and tasted great on each, but also without any sugar on top.
I acknowledge the feeling of impressing oneself, but it’s not as powerful as impressing others. It’s still better to share. Next. The taste was corroborated by three closest persons.
The next time will be the same, or similar, mix — except for apples instead of plums, and with a bunch of other powders, such as cinnamon, ginger, etc. I have already several versions planned in my mind.
Have a sweet time!
P.S. I came back and finished composing this experience. It WAS worthwhile after all.
from the coffee table 