Ma's Prune Cake

Of everything my grandmother made, I loved her prune cake the best. When I think of that cake, there is no recollection of the stigma usually surrounding the mention of prunes but, rather, of a dark spice laden dessert that was both dense and incredibly moist. As a testament to just how much I loved that cake, my grandmother even sent one through the mail on more than one of my birthdays. Imagine baked goods traveling from West Virginia to Arizona long before Amazon Prime put packages at your doorstep overnight. 



After recently finding the recipe, written up in my grandmother’s distinctive handwriting, I decided to do something evil. There’s no way Martin would eat even one slice of a prune cake and just as small a chance that I’d stop before eating the whole cake by myself, so what to do?  I baked one this weekend, put it on a platter, and sent it to the church for a fellowship. I didn’t even bother to describe what was in the cake and, in fact, rather hoped unsuspecting church folk would mistake the cooked and cut up prune bits for raisins.

Because I was in charge of a musical night before the fellowship, I didn’t even get to the room where all the eats where put out until after all the pieces of my mystery dessert were gone. I have no idea how the cake might have been received...but I bet there were some folks who found themselves surprisingly regular the next day. If you get my drift.

Just because I missed out on the church portion of the cake, certainly doesn’t mean I didn’t get a taste of the past in it’s most delicious form. I ate two (or was it three?) slices before I cut the rest up to be given away. Did it taste just like my grandmother’s? Honestly, I don’t have an exact remembrance of how her cake tasted because I think what most impressed me as a child and teenager was the love that went into baking that special cake, just for me. I could put all the same ingredients into a pan but I couldn’t duplicate the extra dimension of a grandmother’s loving attention to her only granddaughter added to each component of the cake.

If the thought of a prune cake seems odd, think of this as very close to an applesauce spice cake, in terms of taste and texture. Or, do as my daughter suggested and simply rename the prunes to "dried plums". Whatever it takes to get past a possible prune hang-up, this cake is worth it.

Prune Cake with Glazed Topping
3 eggs
1 1/2 c sugar
1/2 c vegetable oil
1 c buttermilk
1 c cooked, chopped prunes
1 t vanilla
2 c flour
1 t baking powder
1 t baking soda
1 t cinnamon
1 t nutmeg
1 t allspice
To prepare the prunes, place in a glass measuring cup and cover with water. Microwave 3 minutes. Drain and rinse with cold water to cool. Cut into pieces.

Mix wet ingredients in mixer and blend well.
Add sifted dry ingredients alternately with buttermilk. Beat well.
Pour into a greased 9x13 pan. Bake 350 for 40-50 minutes or until toothpick inserted into cake comes out clean.
Glaze
1 1/2 sticks butter
1 1/2 c sugar
3/4 c buttermilk
2 T white corn syrup
1 t vanilla
Place all ingredients in deep sauce pan and stir over medium
low heat just until it begins to boil.
Remove from heat and add 1 t of baking soda.
Stir until dissolved and foamy. Pour slowly
over hot cake until absorbed.