Harvest Apple Cake

To my kids, I am Wikipedia. I know this sounds crazy because, well, Wikipedia is Wikipedia. But to my children, I am it. The font of all knowledge. The bearer of all truths. The solver of all problems. 

This isn’t true because they’ve ever said as much. I’m not even sure it’s a conscious thought they could or would articulate. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out, though. Just spend an hour in our presence. You’ll see. You’ll see it’s true not because of what they say, but because of what they do. Yes, it’s obviously true because on average they ask me about 100 questions (each) on a daily basis for which I am no more qualified to give an answer than they are.

I am not really sure why this is the case, what about little old me makes them think I would know, say, what the fastest fish in the ocean is (answer: I do not know) or if I know when the new season of Fortnite will be coming out (answer: I do not care). Somehow and some way, my children think that by virtue of birthing them and keeping them alive for all of their years I have somehow also absorbed superhuman knowledge.

I’m flattered, really.

Unfortunately for them, though, I don’t know all the things. I cannot diagnose a spot on their back or have the exact cure for the ulcer in their mouth. I am unable to solve fractions or decimals or complicated algebraic equations. I do not know exactly how vaccines work and I do not completely understand the science behind the water cycle. I’m not sure about those details in the book of Revelation and when you ask me what the laws of physics are, I’ll absolutely draw a blank. 

They should really learn the sad fact that their momma is an expert only on cooking (and really this might be a stretch), obscure early 90’s R&B/Rap lyrics, and Friends episodes. Come at me with any of those questions, you’re golden. That is my lane and I really like to stay in it. Anything else, the answer you’ll get is somewhat questionable. And that’s the truth.

I know this is not unique. As mothers, we are the font of all knowledge until we are the font of no knowledge at all (teenagers, I’m looking at you). It’s actually very sweet. I know they won’t always come to me for every little thing, with questions only an inquiring mind would want to know. I truly do cherish this time and love that I am their safe space. I also feel flattered and somewhat humbled by the complete confidence they have in my knowledge base.

Moms, it really is a good thing.

Growing up, my mom was my Mom-o-pedia. I honestly don’t know how she did it. Back then, did they just make stuff up? Did they actually, I don’t know, open up a dusty volume of Encyclopedia Britannica if they didn’t know the answer? Or did they say “Go ask your father” and go about their day? There was no Amazon Alexa or Siri to turn to. It might as well have been the dark ages. How did they do it? I don’t really remember.

Because I was a kid and, let’s face it, I wasn’t paying attention to basically anything my mom said or did. Because that’s what kids do. 

I’ll tell you what I do remember about my mom, though. She was safe. And I could rely on her to answer me. Maybe not with factual information or a reliable medical diagnosis, but with an answer. In fact, for years her recommendation for anything ailing us was “Robitussin and Advil.” So much so that it became a family joke.

Foot fungus? Go take some R&A.

Tummy bug? R&A.

Weird rash? You know what to do.

Now that I’m a mom I know where she was coming from, too. The sheer amount of minor, non-threatening, and somewhat ridiculous maladies I am faced with each day is mind-bending. I don’t use R&A in quite the volume she did. Probably because I’m pretty sure it’s about 80% straight alcohol and now heavily frowned upon by the pediatricians of the world. But I do rely on Vaseline, Band-Aids (in which I should take out stock and thus become an instant millionaire) and a humidifier more than I care to admit.

Surely these are the jokes of my future. 

The great thing about kids, or at least my kids, is just how trusting and earnest they are about it. They truly do believe mommy will know why Americans can’t get along and why Donald Trump is always tweeting stuff. They do. And what’s so beautiful is in this complete trust they have not, as of yet, become able to discern based on the inflection in my voice, or complete lack thereof, when I just don’t care to know the answer. Maybe I should be worried about their social IQ and ability to read social cues. They certainly can’t read mine. They haven’t yet figured out when mommy says “hmmm..I don’t know. let’s look it up later” with zero inflection while also trying to cook dinner and break up a fistfight there is about a 0% chance I’m looking it up and a 100% chance I am hoping they’ll forget. 

Because when I am in the middle of a stir-fry I just can’t be bothered with trying to figure out why Sketch doesn’t like Ninja. Or vice versa. I can’t remember which one is which because, quite frankly, I wasn’t listening.

Moms, I know this is tiring. I was laid up with back pain all weekend so I was a sitting duck, wide open, and defenseless against the barrage. And that barrage, it came. In fact, every single question and ailment in this post–all from this weekend. And believe me, this was just a tiny sampling.

It becomes humbling to know so few of the answers and to have to fake it so many times a day. It is sad to think of just all the things out there I don’t know but my curious children want to. I love their curiosity. I really do. I know I will ache for these days when they are gone. I know someday they will think I know literally NOTHING and I also know that someday isn’t too far off. I just wish it didn’t come at me so hard and fast sometimes. I wish I knew the answers. I wish I could diagnosis stuff. I wish I cared about video games. I just wish…..

And also, go ask Dad. He knows stuff too.

Harvest Apple Cake

What I do know, though, is the kitchen. It is my place. It’s always been my place. One of the joys of my life is baking with my children, showing them how you can create something wonderful from humble ingredients. Sometimes I even know the answer to their questions about the complex scientific interactions that go on in order to create a cake. Sometimes I don’t and fake it. But don’t worry. They aren’t listening anyway.

This cake, though. Let me tell you. . . it’s AMAZING. A marriage of my mommas Jewish Apple cake and a skillet sour cream cake I found in Southern Cast Iron Magazine, this cake is to-die-for. Perfect for fall, when the harvest of apples is undeniably one of the highlights of the season, this cake takes apple pie and steps it up a notch. With a crunchy crust and tender center, this cake magic rests on the cinnamon-y goodness of a layer of apples sliced thin. Just add vanilla ice cream or fresh whipped cream and you have yourself your newest Thanksgiving (or anytime) dessert.

Keep in mind that I used a 10″ skillet, making the cake slightly thicker. It took me roughly 1 hour of baking time to get the center cooked through, but with a 12″ skillet and thinner cake you will probably get by with about 45 minutes. My best advice is to continually check with a toothpick and when the cake starts to pull slightly away from the apples on the top, you’ll know it’s ready.

Peace, love, and unending questions,
Meg 

Harvest Apple Sour Cream Skillet Cake

May 26, 2020

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By: Meaghan Dawson

Ingredients

• 4 large apples, peeled, cored and thinly sliced (I used Honeycrisp but Golden Delicious or Gala would be great)
• Juice of half a lemon
• 2 teaspoons cinnamon
• 5 tablespoons + 2 teaspoons sugar
• 1 cup unsalted butter, softened
• 1 1/2 cups firmly packed brown sugar
• 2 teaspoons vanilla
• 2 large eggs (preferably at room temp)
• 2 cups flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup sour cream, room temperature

Directions

• Step 1 Preheat oven to 325 and spray and lightly flour cast iron skillet (10″ or 12″)
• Step 2 Combine apples, lemon juice, cinnamon and 5 tablespoons sugar in a small bowl, mixing to make sure the apples are evenly coated. Set aside.
• Step 3 Combine butter, brown sugar and vanilla in bowl of stand mixer and beat, medium speed, until light and fluffy. Be sure to scrape down the sides as you go.
• Step 4 Add eggs, one at a time, beating until incorporated after each.
• Step 5 In a separate bowl whisk together flour, baking powder and salt.
• Step 6 Add to the butter mixture, alternating with the sour cream, beating until just combined after each addition.
• Step 7 Spread about 1/2 of the batter on the bottom of the pan, being sure to even out the layer.
• Step 8 Sprinkle in about 3/4 of the apples in an even layer.
• Step 9 Cover with remaining batter.
• Step 10 Use leftover apples to create a pretty design on top (see picture) as desired. Or if you’re feeling lazy, simply scatter.
• Step 11 Sprinkle with remaining 2 teaspoons sugar.
• Step 12 Bake for 45-1 hour or until a toothpick inserted in center comes out clean (minus the apple residue)
• Step 13 Serve with vanilla ice cream or whipped cream.
• Step 14 Keeps for a few days in the fridge and makes delectable leftovers.

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